


Only Fools Rush In

by DorotheaT



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Plothole Fill, Pre-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:05:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 86,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorotheaT/pseuds/DorotheaT
Summary: My attempt to level out some of the plot problems I see in Arcana, but also some "before and between" storylines.Hani (or insert your Male MC here) is the Fool. He comes to Vesuvia to start anew, but finds himself part of a fate's design that he doesn't truly believe in. Lovers fall into his bed, and he resists admitting to a broken heart that will inevitably lead to his demise.





	1. Fate's encounter

When I first saw him, he was sitting at a modest little table in the middle of the bustling market, his fingers idly pulling up his cards and letting them drop. His chin was resting on his hand, and his little jar had but two coins in it.

I looked about. There were fortune tellers everywhere in this place. Tucked between stalls. Calling to potential clients from atop walls or urns or whatever they could climb onto. Some even had stalls of their own, with fancy signs and wares that shimmered in the sunlight.

No one had a glance to spare towards the magician with the silvery-white hair sat nearly in a pathway. His clothes were ragged and worn, but colorful. He looked a bit on the thin side, and I could bet he hadn’t eaten yet that day, and it was past noon. I could tell this was a normal thing for him, because he had not gotten up to leave. Two coins was better than none, and the promise of more was better than whatever else he could be doing.

It was all a pity, because I could sense his magic from where I stood. Its what had gotten me to stop in the middle of the bustling market in the first place. I stood and stared, neverminding the people who looked up at me, the stranger, with contempt. Someone told me to move along. Someone else told me to stop staring, because it was rude.

“Don’t bother with him, dear!” A fortune teller called to me. “I can tell you all about your next love.” I scrunched my nose at her. Her magic was thin, barely harnessed. She could tell me nothing.

I’d come out here for supplies for the shop. Auntie had left it to me, and it needed to be cleaned, from top to bottom. I’d brought things to restock it, but I had no essentials for myself. I wanted to not only restore it to its former glory, but to make it better. My parents had always told me that I jumped into things too passionately, without a care for what could happen. They had thought the shop was a foolish endeavor, but I did not care. I had come to Vesuvia, and I was here, and I was going to make the most of it.

I bit my lip and changed direction. I headed straight for that magician, and sat myself on the little overturned bucket right across from him. His eyes, violet and wide, blinked up at me. His hand stilled on the deck. Was he surprised that I was a customer? Was he surprised at all? Or did he know…?

“Welcome, magician,” he said, smiling finally. His face was warm, inviting. And of course he knew. Magic that strong had to know what I was. “I’ve never seen your face around here.”

“Oh?” I pulled out from my bag a bit of bread I’d bought back in the market. It was still warm. I cracked it in half, paper wrapping and all, and set it down in front of him, along with a coin with a worth more than any he’d seen in a while. Or, at least, that’s what his eyes told me when he saw it. Or was it the bread? “Do you know many people here?”

“I’ve…lived here my whole life. I know mostly everyone here. You…are not from around here. I don’t need to read you to know that.” he said. He looked down at the coin. “It’s just two coppers, magician…”

“I could have wasted my time and money on all the fake tellers around here,” I said it as I waved my hand over the market in dismissal. The fortune teller who had called to me was still yelling out into the crowd. “I figured this was a better place for it. And don’t argue with me about the bread, either. I’m hungry, and its rude to eat in front of others who are not eating.” With that, I took a bite of my own share.

He blinked slowly, but smiled. He straightened and took up his deck. “So, what sort of reading would you like today? Would you like to know of love?”

I shrugged. “Love happens to us all, whether we see it for what it is or do not.”

“Fortune?”

“Riches don’t always come in the way of money. The worth of something seen as dull and insignificant often has more weight than gold in our minds and hearts.”

“Luck?”

“Luck? Luck is just life thrown at our feet. We decide what to do with it. Good luck, bad luck…” I shrugged and took another bite. “What is good to me may be bad for you.”

The magician scoffed through his smile. “Then what are you interested in?”

“The journey.” I tapped at the table. He picked up the cards and shuffled, his eyes on mine.

“Could you not do this for yourself?”

“I never read for myself. My perspective throws me off.”

“Oh?” He ceased shuffling and set the deck down. I brushed my hand free of crumbs, then parted the deck. He set to putting the cards out in a spread, face down, then set my cards to the side. He eyed the bread before reaching for the first card.

“Wait,” I held up a hand. “Eat.”

“I haven’t even read your cards yet.”

“I told you, its rude,” I motioned with my own bread. “What is your name?”

“Why do you wish to know my name?” His hand had reached for the bread, but stopped before his fingertips touched it.

“I don’t know anybody’s name here. Why shouldn’t yours be the first name I know?”

“Names are only known if you wish to use them.”

“Who says I do not wish to use it?”

He seemed skeptical, and it occurred to me that this magician enjoyed the ambiguity of his position. He was surely the most powerful magician here, and yet, he kept to the sides, obscure. He said he knew everyone here, but how many people knew of him?

“Asra.”

I smiled. “You have a lovely name.”

His cheeks reddened. He tore his eyes from mine and took up the bread, then took a bite. He set it down again, brushed his hands clear of crumbs, and overturned the first card. A hand came up to cover his mouth as he chewed. “The Fool.”

“Oh, yes,” I chuckled and looked it over. The Fool was gaily traipsing towards a cliff, his little dog in tow. “I get that a lot.”

Asra swallowed and focused down at the cards, his light brows knitting. “You are very connected to this Arcana. Usually a card in this position signifies your role in your current journey, but this is no ordinary card for you. It is as if your power and the power of The Fool are the same. “

“You name me a fool, then?” I raised a brow, my voice in jest.

“Hardly.” Asra raised a brow. “You forget. The fool is the journey in itself. Free to move forwards, free to move backwards. There are no limits upon this figure. You are a man who views life as adventure, as something to partake in without a care of the consequences. The hardest lessons are before you…but they aren’t all your lessons to learn.”

“Sounds promising.” I rested my head in my hand and looked upon him as he concentrated on the cards. His hair fluttered like feather-down in the slight breeze.

“Does it? To be open to everything means to be without boundaries to all things. As much as happiness can come to you, and love, and luck, and fortune, so can the antithesis of all these things. Sorrow and pain, ruin and illness. If you wish to taste the sweet things in life, you should know that your next bite will be sour. But you won’t be warned.”

“So far I’ve yet to taste anything sour.” My eyes were on his lips. He seemed not to notice.

His fingers touched the next card to flip it, but the coating of the cards caused two more to slip out from under it. Frowning, Asra flipped them all, and set them beside each other. “The Magician, the Hanged Man, and the High Priestess.” He sat back in his seat. “Huh.”

“Hmm?” My mouth was full of bread. I looked over the cards. They often did that, disguising themselves as one, when they knew the reader would limit themselves to a spread that did not allow for many cards in one spot. The Magician, a fox-headed figure, slid out from under the other two, and drifted a bit towards Asra. “It’s you.”

“It is not me…”

“It ‘s much like you. You have the same energy.”

“Am I not the one giving this reading?”

I shrugged and sat back, leaning myself against the wall his table was next to. “Very well, magician.”

“Well, you already know what these all mean,” he said. “But…why all three? All at once?” His brow furrowed again. “They aren’t telling me why they are all here. But I guess…” He reached up to the next card. The Devil. His hand peeled back as if he’d touched the light of a candle on accident, or perhaps its melting wax.

I looked to the card, then to Asra. His hand hovered over the card, and it looked as if he was warring with understanding the meaning behind it. “This journey is…arduous. There will be decisions to be made and…some of them are not yours. You may flit through the passages of this world, eager for each new turn, a feather upon the wind, but…know that each decision leads here.”

“Overpowering hedonism?”

“A desire for balance. What is taken, must be given equally. There is always a consequence for every action, and often that consequence is not paid by you. It is not always desired, but you do not get to choose what it is. Pain, disease, penance, a truth that you thought was a lie. If…you believe that to be true.”

“That makes no sense, Asra.”

He didn’t even look up at me before turning the last card. Death. Frowning, he reached for the other cards, but I grabbed his wrist. I smiled when his gaze met my own. “I’m not afraid of Death.”

“The meanings change according to what is next to them…”

I chuckled and let go of his hand. ‘What does Death have to say?”

“It says nothing. It won’t tell me. It is…as if there is no voice behind it.”

“What does the card mean anyway?” I knew, but I wanted him to tell me.

“The end, which must come before a new beginning.”

“You sense a literal death.”

Asra worried his lip. “This whole spread gives me pause. Usually the cards just…tell me something quite ordinary. Tomorrow you will…come upon a purse someone has forgotten. Your luck will change for the better, if you follow this path. Health and happiness are yours, if you just do these things.”

“The love of your life will appear before you, as if from nowhere?” I smirked and raised my brows at him. I’d given such readings before. I hadn’t finagled the cards at all, and I knew that is not what Asra meant. I looked down at the cards, then to Asra, who was regarding me with an expression I could not read. “Well, then. What’s the next card say?” I could feel it singing from the deck, begging to be pulled.

He picked it up and looked upon the face, then set it down for me to see.

Judgment.

“That’s a talkative one, isn’t it?” I commented.

“Yes. It speaks what Death will not. A promise of rebirth. Whatever happens, it seems that…you will be given the chance to…set it all right.” His eyes met mine. “But it says nothing else.”

“So,” I motioned to the strange spread. All major arcana, none reversed. I hadn’t seen a clearer message in ages. “The fool, and his three friends,” I motioned to the three cards beside each other. “Dancing beyond the Devil’s reach.” I waggled my fingers over the Devil card, and flitted them to the Death card. “Towards an inevitable cycle of ambiguity. But all is not lost.” I smirked. “It sounds exciting.”

“It sounds worrisome.”

“Do you worry for me, my new friend?”

Asra blinked, and his cheeks warmed again. “You trust too easily.”

That was not part of the reading, and I don’t know if he understood the meaning behind what he’d blurted. I could only laugh, though, and rose to my feet. I shoved the rest of my bread into my bag, and tapped the Death card. “Trust has nothing to do with the expectation of an outcome. You cannot say you trust a man, and then be disappointed when he does something you do not want. You trust what he is.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“A bad man will always do bad things. A fish will always swim. A bird will always fly. In that, you can trust,” I lifted my hands. “You mistake trust for something else.”

“And I suppose you will tell me that as well?”

“I like you, Asra. And you can trust this fool to do as a Fool will do.”

“The Fool does as he pleases, with no regard to what’s about him, and cannot be predicted!”

I placed my hands on the table and leaned forward a bit. “Yes. Free from trust.”

I shoved off from the table and waved, then made my way back out of the market without a glance back. I continued to peruse the stalls, making purchases here and there, until my bag and arms were laden with goods and I had no choice but to turn and head home. Just as well, though. It was getting dark.

I found my way back to the shop and fumbled with the locks, not knowing them well enough to know what key went where, before I practically burst through the door. I set everything down on the empty glass counter and set my bag on the ground, and shook out my weary arms. “I have to invest in some sort of trolley,” I muttered.

I began to set things away, then set to arranging the room upstairs. New linens went on the bed, and I did my best to fluff up the pillows and rearrange odds and ends to my liking. I put foodstuffs on the shelves in the kitchen, then headed back down to start putting things on display. This stuff came from boxes I’d taken with me from home, things I knew I could never find in Vesuvia. Ingredients, books, crystals, pendulums, powders, tools…

I heard something shift, and I whirled about to see what it was in the dimming light that filtered in from the windows. I sent light into the lanterns quickly, and the place illuminated, but I saw nothing moving. Frowning, I returned to my work.

I got mostly everything put away, and stood back against the counter to survey the results when something slid across my instep, cool and smooth.

I may have screamed.

I also may have pulled myself up onto the counter, on my hands and knees. I looked over the edge and then batted away my long curls before spying a…pale blue serpent coiled up where I had just been standing. It looked up at me with a quizzical expression – if snakes could have expressions – and flicked its tongue at me teasingly.

“Oh, you’re not a rat.” I chuckled to myself. “Snakes, I can do. Rats….” I shuddered. I slowly put one leg down, then the other, before dropping into a crouch to look upon my guest. “Well, now. What are you doing here, little one? Did Auntie leave you here, all alone and hungry?”

I got a tongue-flick in response before the snake rose its head to me, towards my hand. I let it slither across my palm and to my wrist, where it coiled itself about me like a strange bracelet. I chuckled and pet its little head. “You’re kind of cute.”

I took my new guest with me to the kitchen and set to making tea, then took the serpent and the tea to the back room where I planned to make a meal out of the rest of my bread and the tea. The snake let go of my wrist to coil about the tea, and stared at me with its red eyes, waiting. “You’re well behaved for a wild snake. I bet you are someone’s pet. I hate to tell you this, but I’ve no mice to give you for a meal. I guess we can figure out where you came from tomorrow.” I looked out a window. It was now dark, and I was tired. “Hopefully whoever your master is, they’re not freaking out looking for you.”

A tongue flick was accompanied by a wag of the tip of the serpent’s tail. I smiled down at it before setting to pet its head with a fingertip. “Do you believe in fate, little snake? Do you think, perhaps, it was fate that brought me to that magician today? I could have easily turned away and went to someone else. Actually, I wasn’t even looking for a reading today. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m not a big believer in getting readings. Not that I don’t think they can be true, mind you. But why find out what is going to happen? Why live life by what may or may not happen? Why not just…live it?”

I laughed. “Oh, I suppose I am the Fool, aren’t I? But…maybe fate knows what I would have done? Suppose it was all set up, knowing that I could not resist such powerful magic? Hmm? Or maybe, it knew I could not resist…whatever he was.” I smiled softly before picking up the cup to drink. I set it back down right in the middle of the snake’s coils. “If someone asked me what I was attracted to, I don’t think I’d list a single attribute of his. But I suppose it is like a song everyone knows or story that everyone tells. No one will say it is a favorite, but when it is sung or when the words are told, you can’t help but be drawn to it.”

This time I scratched under the serpent’s chin. “Well. I’ll make a cozy little nest for you, then. Auntie has plenty of spare blankets around here to keep you warm. I’ll give you some water, but like I said, I’m fresh out of mice. Although, if you find one sneaking in, its all yours.” I winked and drained my tea, then lifted the snake and cradled it as I made my way upstairs.

I did as I said, and set the snake down in the middle of the blankets. For a chuckle, I made as if I were tucking it in, then stripped to change into a nightshirt, and practically fell into bed.

My dreams were colored by a fox, roaming through the woods, looking for something. A raven swooped down and offered to help. At first, it appeared that they were friends. But then a playful nip from the fox turned into a bite, and the sharp claws of the raven’s foot drew blood in the depths of the fox’s plush fur. They tussled.

 

….

 

I woke with a start. The sun was streaming in steadily through a window above my bed. I winced at the light, then noticed a weight on my arm. I lifted it to see the snake coiled up, once more at my wrist. It flicked its tongue out at me, then slid up my arm, energized from my warmth, to drape itself about my neck. “Well, good morning to you too.”

I set to washing and getting ready and eating breakfast, which was just a cold boiled egg that I’d brought with me in my travels and some hard biscuits that I didn’t particularly enjoy, but food was food. I was never a good cook anyway. I pulled on fresh clothes and my shoes, then deposited my new friend in my bag and headed out.

“Lets try to find your master,” I muttered. The morning brought with it new sights and smells. Neighbors waved to me with hesitation, but I gave them warm smiles and waves back. I introduced myself to a few of them, whoever would stop to talk, really. They were glad to see that the shop was not going to close, and that I would take over what my Auntie had started. I asked them all if they knew anyone who had lost a pet, but if anyone had, it was a cat or dog. One even lost an annoying cockatoo, and didn’t seem too keen in finding it.

I made my way through the city, asking who I could, but no one gave me an affirmative. It was near noon when I entered the market again. I found the spot where I had met Asra, but he and his table were not there today. I looked about, but not much else had changed from the day before. Even the yelling fortune teller was there.

And then, I smelled it.

The most delicious smell I’d ever smelled came to me, and the snake was forgotten for a moment. I followed the trail of the scent like it was a lure, and found myself before a stall that displayed all sorts of breads and pastries. My mouth watered as I looked it over, but none had the smell that had drawn me to the place.

A head poked itself out the half-door. “Can I help you?”

“I must have whatever it is that is making that delicious smell.”

A brow was raised. “You mean this?” He disappeared back inside, then returned with a fresh loaf of…whatever it was. My mouth watered anew, and I took up a stool at the half door. I nearly slapped down a coin. “Yes.”

The man chuckled and handed me a slice. I bit into it and felt my eyes roll in pleasure at the taste. “Oh my god,” I said between chews. “What is this?”

“Its just plain ol’ pumpkin bread.”

“Pumpkin is delicious.” I took more bites, and then the slice was gone. I was handed another. “What kind of magical ingredient is…pumpkin?”

“It’s…just a type of gourd,” the baker disappeared again, then returned with a squat orange squash. “Nothing special. You don’t know what pumpkin is?”

I looked to the squash, then to the baker. “No.”

“Huh. I thought they were pretty common. Do you want change, or…?”

“I’ll take the whole thing.”

“All of it? I’ve got some with raisins, too.”

“That too.”

“You’re going to eat it all yourself?”

“I just might.” I thought of the hungry magician. If I found him, I could give him some. Or, I could give some to any number of new friends I had made that day. The baker disappeared to wrap my purchases, and I swirled about in my seat to look upon the market as I ate.

And, there he was.

He wasn’t hard to miss, with that strange color of hair. He was walking through the market, looking this way and that, his brows drawn up at the center and his mouth open. I couldn’t hear him, but he was calling something out. I watched as he looked under a barrel, and then went to a tree and peered up into the branches.

“Oh no.” I looked down into my bag. The snake poked its head up and gave a cheeky flick of its tongue. “You…you belong to the magician, don’t you?”

“Here you go.” The baker returned with two packages. I hurriedly shoved the slice I held into my mouth, then grabbed up the loaves and shoved them into my bag, mindful of the snake. I hurried out into the crowd, but Asra was moving away. I pushed through, my bag cradled in my arms for protection. I’d hate to finally catch up to him and present him with squashed snake. And squashed bread.

The magician darted up a set of stairs, and I was fast after him. “Asra! Asra, wait!”

He looked to me, then away, then back again. He seemed hesitant to wait for me.

“Wait, please!” I bounded up the stairs, then paused to catch my breath. “I…think I may have walked away yesterday with a little stowaway.”

His eyes widened. I opened my bag to reveal the serpent, who I could have sworn gave Asra a cheeky little smirk. Asra’s face brightened. “Faust!” He reached in and allowed the snake to coil itself about his hands, then pulled it out of the bag. “Faust…I thought I’d lost you too!”


	2. The Vesuvian Sights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani finds Asra. Asra points out that he doesn't even know Hani's name.

I blinked, but I don’t think he knew he’d said what he said. I could only smile as Asra pressed a kiss to the snake’s head and allowed it to drape across his neck and shoulders, not unlike the worn shawl he wore. He gave a small laugh when the snake seemed to nuzzle his cheek, and then his eyes returned to me. His smile waned a bit.

“I…promise I didn’t steal it. Him? “ I held up my hands in defense. I managed an awkward smile.

“Her.”

“I promise I didn’t make off with her on purpose. She must’ve snuck into my bag yesterday.”

“She…does that sometimes,” Asra sighed. A hand came to stroke Faust’s periwinkle scales, but I could tell that the anxiety had not left Asra’s frame. “I’ve been looking for her…all night.”

I swallowed, thinking of Faust and I warm and cozy and unworried back at home. “I’m sorry, Asra. If I had known, I would have tried to find you sooner.”

“Its alright,” Asra said. The corners of his lips quirked a bit. “You kept her safe. And…” He raised a brow. “Gave her a bed. And told her she could have any mouse she found.”

I blinked. “How…do you know that?”

“She told me, of course.”

“I…” I looked to the snake, then Asra. “I didn’t hear her.”

He laughed. “Of course not. Come on,” his arm looped in mine. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of the market today and…its obvious that Faust does not want to part company with you so soon.”

I let him lead me back down the steps and away from the market. “So you say you’ve lived here your whole life?”

“Yes. I mean, as far as I can remember.”

“Then tell me. What is there to do here? Who is there to know? When you aren’t telling fortunes, what is it you like to do? And I heard there was a palace…”

Asra laughed. “You certainly are eager.”

“I hope it doesn’t make you uneasy. Like I said…I like to just…”

“Jump into things. Yes.” Asra’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “So I see. I must admit that…it is a little strange. But then I have to remind myself that you are new, and are seeing things for the very first time. Perhaps as they should be seen. Ah…wait a minute.” He stilled and turned to me. I raised a brow. “You never told me your name yesterday.”

“Of course I did.”

“No…I went to ask you, and you…got distracted and walked away.”

“Did I really?”

“Yes! I tried calling for you but I didn’t know what name to call you.”

I blinked, then laughed. “I am so sorry! After the hard time I gave you about your name, too!”

“Well, come on then. What is it?”

“Hani.”

“Hani.”

“You don’t like it?”

“What’s it mean?”

“What does Asra mean?”

“I…don’t really know. Do you know yours?”

“No.” I grinned. “Well, now you know about as much as I do.” I tugged on his arm. “And I was just going to say that perhaps you should show me around.”

His eyes were warm, as was his smile. I could have sworn he pulled me a bit closer then. He smelled of sea salt and honey. While I was distracted by it, his fingers interlaced with mine, and then he was leading me away.

We started off at a polished square, with a grand fountain and statue of a man on horseback at the center. Asra allowed me to look down at the fish in the fountain, then in the canal, before we headed off somewhere else. He then took me away from the palace, which loomed in the distance, towards what he called the temple district. Different temples of all sorts of religions stood there, each next to each other and each beautiful in their own way. I wanted to go into each one and explore, but Asra said there would be plenty of time to do that later.

Then we were in what he called the shopping district. This was much grander and much more…polished than the market, with actual storefronts that gleamed with all sorts of items for sale. There was jewelry, and fine clothing, and leather goods…it was almost too much to take in. And certainly more expensive than either of us could afford. Either way, we took a break at a sandwich shop, although Asra did not seem too comfortable in this area.

I looked about. Everyone here was dressed in fine clothing, without a hair out of place or a smear upon their make up. I suddenly felt very under-dressed, and Asra only laughed when I packed up our sandwiches to go and left a coin on the table. We must’ve looked like a pair of wiley ruffians to this crowd, but we didn’t mind. We laughed down the streets, eating our food and pairing it with the bread I had with me, until we arrived at the edge of the city.

It was turning evening now, but I didn’t mind. Asra looked about, then turned us towards the docks. Fishermen sat here and there on them, their lines bobbing lazily in the water. Some beach goers still bathed in the surf of the beaches, but that wasn’t what Asra was interested in showing me. We passed them by to head down one specific dock. Asra led me to the edge, where we sat to let our feet dangle over the water. We sat in companionable silence for a bit, and then I realized that Asra’s hand was still interlaced with mine.

I dislodged myself to pull out the remainder of the bread and offered a piece to him.

“I have to ask…do you always come bearing gifts?” He asked it with a raise of a brow, but took the bread nonetheless.

“You never know who you’re going to meet,” I answered. “Although, I had hoped I’d see you again.”

He flushed and set to eating. I leaned back on one hand and looked up at the sky. Clouds were moving in from over the ocean, and with them, a cool breeze. The bread was delicious, even though it was no longer warm. “I could stay here…all day. All night, really. Don’t you think its lovely here?”

“It has its charms.”

“You don’t seem so convinced.” I looked to Asra, who shrugged.

“Well…it can be pleasant. Sometimes I like to sit here and watch the waves roll in. The boats…the merchant vessels, as they come into port. Sometimes, you can see dolphins playing in the waves.” He looked to me as he motioned out into the ocean. “If you’re lucky, you may spot a curious whale. I’m not a fan of the sea lions, however.” He wrinkled his nose. “They’re noisy.”

I laughed. “Am I too noisy?”

“Almost.” He winked. “But tolerable.”

I scoffed. “I’ll take that bread back now, sir.”

He laughed but shoved the remaining bite in his mouth.

My mirth faded into a smile. “Thanks, Asra. For showing me the city. Or what you could show me. It seems to be a large place. I guess I’ll just have to take another tour some other day…I only hope my guide is as lovely as you.”

“You…keep saying these things.” Asra’s brow knitted. He dusted his hands. “And you keep saying them when you look at me. ‘I like you, Asra.’ And…’Pleasant’…and…’Lovely’…”

“You are not as open to the words as I am.”

He cast me a glance.

I pointed to myself. “Fool.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t like it, but I think you should be more concerned with your card than mine.”

“My card?”

“The Magician.”

“That was not me.”

“It is you. The conduit, the in-between. He who can change and create. A true master but…maybe you don’t believe it.”

“I don’t believe that I am the Magician.”

“And why not?”

“Because…it would be foolish to presume that I am that figure. Theirs is a power and a realm I am not part of. You know this. Just as you know that you are not the Fool. You merely…have the same energy.”

“Fine, then you have the same energy as the Magician.”

“Some things I cannot create.”

“Maybe it is not the right time.”

He blinked, then turned his gaze over to the water’s horizon. “You truly believe that anything can be done.”

“I’ve yet to see the opposite.”

He smiled a bit, even if to himself. “You are hard to be pessimistic with.”

“I doubt you are a pessimistic person by nature.”

“Oh?”

“Even optimistic people have bad days.” I cocked my head. “A slow day of readings, you lose your friend.” I motioned to the serpent who had buried herself within Asra’s shirt, and was now only peeking her snout up out of its neckline. “And…wait.” I fished into my bag, and found my own deck. It was not as…magnificent as Asra’s, not by any means. It was old, and worn, and utterly ordinary. He watched as I shuffled the cards a bit, flicking my hand before and behind the deck to rearrange the order, until one card snapped up into the air. I snatched it before it could flutter away and into the water. “Ah-ha!”

I turned it about, then held it up for him to see. The Lovers.

His eyes saddened before his fingers took the card from me. He looked down at the worn image of two people holding hands, much different than the animal-headed theme of his own deck.

“You look for love, then?” I asked.

“Maybe.” He sighed and looked back over the water again. He smirked. “Do you believe that everyone can find such a thing?”

“Everything lost is defined by the possibility of being found. If it is not missed, it cannot have the potential of coming back. As long as you believe it can be found, it will never truly be lost.” I frowned at my words. They didn’t make sense, even to me. “I mean…”

“No. Don’t take it back. That makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

“To me, it does.”

“Oh, well. There you go. On the house.” I took the card from him again when he was ready to relinquish it, or tried to. He kept grip of one end of the card when I took the other, but did not pull. I looked to him. “Not quite what the card is supposed to mean. Does it say something to you?”

“Maybe. But I like what you said more.” The breeze flitted through his hair, pulling it into his eyes. I reached up to push it away before I could stop myself, and froze before I actually did touch him. I gave a nervous sort of laugh, and pulled my hand back. I was about to mutter an apology before his hand closed over my wrist. “Don’t be…sorry. You’ve made this horrible week much better for me.” He smiled softly.

“Y-yes, well.” I stammered and pulled the card away to my deck, but not before a drop of water landed on its surface. I brushed it away, but it was replaced with two more. We both looked up at the same time, only to be splashed in the face with more droplets. “Oh, perfect.”

The deck was away right as the downpour began in earnest. I cowered under my hands in vain, but soon my hair was soaked, as well as my clothes and shoes. Asra got to his feet and pulled me up, then led me down the dock, but there was no shelter in sight. By the time we found any, we’d be soaked to the bone.

To my surprise, as soon as we hit dry land, he pulled me off to the side and to a path that led under the dock itself. We were soon sheltered by the wood planks above, and Asra summoned a ball of light that illuminated what looked to be…a furnished little alcove dug under the dock itself. I stood there, blinking water from my eyelashes, as he let the light illuminate two lanterns. I could see a few rugs laid upon the earthen floor, and inside, a bed made from random pillows and blankets. A canopy was fashioned from netting and sheers. All of it looked clean, and there was an attempt to arrange it all in a neat order. There were some childish things here and there, but other than that, it was obvious that this was the home of…someone without one.

“Come on in,” Asra said. He motioned to the bed. “I don’t have much in the way of furniture, but you can at least wait here in warmth until the storm passes.”

I nodded and followed him in. He lit a strange looking stove without a pipe, and I saw that it was not lit with fire but with warming light, and gave off no smoke. He draped a blanket over my shoulders and bade me to sit down on the bed, despite my wet clothes. He himself took a seat on the floor.

I gave thanks through chattering teeth. “Asra…aren’t you cold?”

“A little.” He smiled, despite the shivers his body gave off.

I went over and grabbed him by the wrists. I pulled him over and under the blanket I wore. We let our body heat gather and warm us. As soon as he stopped shivering, I asked him a question. “This is where you live?”

“For now.”

“For now?”

“It wasn’t meant to be permanent. But…its protected, and secluded. No one can harm me here.” His eyes met mine. “You don’t approve.”

“I did not say that.”

“I don’t…want pity for any of this.”

“I would not pity resourcefulness.”

He blinked. “How is it you know exactly what to say?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps you hear exactly what you need to.”

He shook his head, and it looked as if he wanted to say something else, or do something else, but he didn’t. He instead just pulled the blanked about us tighter/ The rain did not seem to want to let up, however.

“Do you mind if I crash here, Asra?” I asked.

“Crash?”

“Unplanned overnight visit in which I sleep over with no regard to if it inconveniences you.”

He laughed. “Yes, crash away.” He set up some pillows on one end of the bed, leaving a few for himself on the other. I curled up as best as I could, but his body had given out delicious heat, so I dragged him over. He laughed as I arranged him as if he were another pillow, and I was content to rest my head against his chest, our forms curled towards each other, as we huddled under the blankets.

“I know I said before that I was sorry that I inadvertently stole your snake,” I said, yawning. “But I take it back. I’m not sorry at all.” As if on cue, she slithered out from under his clothes to curl up between us.

Asra’s eyelashes lowered as he took in my face. The curves of his lips pulled back in a smile. “And I do not fault you for it.”

And thus, we fell asleep.


	3. Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani is a terrible cook.

Morning crept in cold with fog, but that was not what woke me. It was Asra, shuddering within my arms. He muttered something in his sleep. Was it a night terror? I touched his cheek gently and whispered a tiny spell to bring him out of it. He could choose to ignore the call in his dream state, but he took it, and let his eyes flutter open.

“You seemed to be having a terrible sleep,” I said softly. “Bad dreams?”

He nodded. “Terrible.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I…” He shook his head. “It was a dream I have a lot. Repetitive. It…is just a memory. You know the kind.”

I didn’t, not really, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. We got up and did our best to straighten our clothes, which were still damp in places. I looked out over the fog, then to Asra. I wanted to go home, but I wasn’t about to leave him here to shiver in the cold. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” He asked it as Faust buried herself within his shirt, perhaps to get warm.

“Home. And to get some proper breakfast.” I took up my things and grabbed his hand. He had no choice but to follow, or maybe, he just didn’t want to argue.

I led him through a city that was not yet awake, back towards the shop, or at least, I did with his help. Asra once again linked his arm in mine, and we were silent in the journey. As soon as we made it to the shop and inside, I shuffled him upstairs and towards the bath, and took his clothes from him as he tried to hand them to me without opening the door too wide. “There's plenty to choose from while I wash these,” I said. “Just pick through the closet when you’re done.”

“Very well,” was all he said.

I shed my own clothes and put on a warm wrap and roomy trousers, then set to laundering his clothes as I had said I would. The colors were a bit brighter after being cleaned, but I could tell they were old clothes. Well loved, however. There was a sentimental note woven through them. Asra would not want to throw them away.

I hung them up to dry, and, impatiently, set a spell upon them to wring the water away. They fluttered, dry, but I was not satisfied. I brought a ball of light to my hands, then let it explode into tiny fractals. They flittered away and embedded themselves into the garments, especially the long coat. The colors renewed, and the worn weaves plumped with new life.

“There. Almost good as new.” There were a few holes and tears that should be repaired by hand. I’d leave that to Asra. I was never good with a thread and needle.

I set to cooking breakfast, or trying to. I stuck to making a few eggs and warming up some of that pumpkin bread, then made a pot of tea. I set it all out on plates in the back room, and by that time, Asra was making his way downstairs, wearing an outfit comprised of one of Auntie’s long tunics and my roomy trousers. His hair was slicked back with water. He looked to me and gave a smile that I could not read.

“I…am a terrible cook,” I admitted. “But I think eggs are hard to ruin.”

He looked to the meager meals, then sat down at one end of the table. He looked it over as if it were a feast, then to me. “It looks delicious.”

“Well, dig in, the food isn’t going to eat itself.” I laughed and took my seat. Faust slithered out of his sleeve, and wound herself about Asra’s teacup. I realized this was probably done for warmth. We ate in near silence, and I realized that Asra probably hadn’t had a meal at a table in quite a long time.

He sat back when his plate was practically shining clean and smiled his thanks. “Go on,” I said. “Be honest.”

“Your eggs were wonderful. But I doubt you know how to make anything else.”

“It is that obvious?”

Asra laughed. “I was trying to be polite.”

“Can you do better?”

“Me?”

“I am asking honestly, because if you can do better, please do,” I motioned to my plate. “I’ve been living off of biscuits, bread, and hard boiled eggs! I’m about to write home to mother and ask her to come and save me from myself!”

Asra laughed again. “If you insist. Perhaps I can make you something one day.”

“Mutton.”

“Hani…”

“Oh, maybe a real mince pie.” I sat back and closed my eyes to think of it. “Or perhaps, soup. Real soup, the kind with noodles, and meat, and sliced carrots…”

“Hani…”

“Pie!” I opened my eyes and leaned forward. “Can you make pumpkin into a pie?”

“I am sure it can be done.”

“Will you make it for me?”

“Make you a pumpkin pie?”

“Yes.”

Asra shrugged with a smile. "It it means that much to you, I'll at least attempt it."

“Then, I am sure it will be my new favorite thing.”

Asra’s smile faltered. He looked to his plate, then to Faust. I returned my gaze to my own place, and picked up my fork to continue eating, but Asra abandoned his side of the table to move close to me. I looked to him in question, but he pushed my fork away and, with a decisive gleam to his eye, pushed his lips to mine.

I had not expected that. No one had ever kissed me before, so I don’t know if I did anything I was supposed to. My eyes were wide for a moment, and then I had the thought to shut them. I realized I was leaning forward, towards him, when he pulled away.

My fork clattered to the floor.

“I…” I scrunched my eyelids, then opened them. Asra waited there, his violet eyes focused soft upon me. Perhaps a little wide in bewilderment in his own choice. “Why…?”

“Why?”

“Why did you stop?” I pushed my plate away and turned in my seat to face him.

“There are…a million little doubts within me,” he said.

“They did not stop you just now.” I reached up to push away a bit of hair that curled up over his forehead as it dried.

“And they won’t. But…I’ve never met anyone like you before, Hani." He paused. "I hope you do not think I am taking advantage of your kindness.”

“I kissed you back, did I not?” I thought. “Didn't I?”

“Not quite.”

“Oh. Well, next time I’ll do better.”

He smiled that soft smile of his again. His hands pulled me closer, and this time I shut my eyes and let him kiss me, and did my best to mirror what he did. I’d expected it to be all lips and tongues and slippery business, but he was soft and pleasant against me, using his lips to discover the planes of my own. They parted only to test the seam of mine, and when I did the same, his kiss gently pulled on each lip, chaste, yet on the edge of the definition of the word, as if he knew there was more to it, only to be discovered later.

Outside, thunder rolled and rain began to fall anew. My breakfast, I’m sure, grew cold as I leaned against him to continue kissing. He settle against the backrest of the booth seats. My fingers traced his jaw, then his neck and over the choker there. His arms were about me, one at the nape of my neck, gently guiding me into the kiss.

His tongue touched my lips gently. I parted them for him, and let him taste me. He was so warm, and smelled of the fragrant salts I’d poured into the bath. I pressed into him as he deepened the kiss, then pulled him towards me so that he was over me, pressing me into the backrest. I wanted to be surrounded by him, and he was eager to comply with this silent desire.

Soon my nerves lit up in…a tingle I could not place. I pulled away and rested my forehead against his shoulder. It was too much, all at once, even for me. He seemed to sense it, though, and let his hands trail down my shoulders in a soothing path.

I cleared my throat and looked up at him. “I am a Fool,” I muttered before settling back into my own seat.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I…got carried away.”

“I don’t think it was you who got carried away.” I looked to my food, then realized my fork was gone. I instead went for my tea, and drank a gulp a little too fast. I sputtered a bit, and pointedly did not look at Asra when he chuckled. I willed my heart to slow, but it ignored me. I willed my breath to calm, but it only stilled in my chest. I finally looked to Asra, who waited patiently, his smirk soft.

"Forget it,” I muttered, before I pulled myself onto his lap once more, a thigh astride each of his own, and pulled his lips against mine as well. He laughed into my mouth, but kissed me, and kissed me again, until we were both lost in it once more. My hands were in his hair, and now dry, it was as soft as rabbit’s fur. His hands were in my clothes and hair.

We dropped back down to enjoying the contact of our mouths exploring each other’s. The movements became languid and comfortable, even though I am sure some sort of noise that betrayed my want of him escaped me now and again. His presence against mine was calming and maddening all at once. I paused to breathe against his neck, but he pressed his lips against my jaw, bringing a new sensation to me. Like a cat, I tipped my chin to give access, and he rewarded me with lavishing my skin with kisses, some accompanied by his tongue.

He held me and tipped me forward so that he could have better access. I allowed him to manipulate me so, and did not stop him when he pushed aside the neckline of my wrap to press a kiss to my collarbone. He breathed in and rested his forehead against my chin. “Hani.”

“Hmm?” I raised my head, and rested it against his.

“I’m afraid I must stop.”

“Why?”

“Because…I want you, and I will not continue without knowing if you wish to be with me.”

I blinked. His gaze met mine so intensely, and I saw the darks of his eyes were wide. I now could feel him, his hardness, against my thigh. I flushed. “Oh.”

“If this is not something you are ready for...”

Ready? Ready? I thought. Was I ready for…? My eyes widened. “ _Oh._ ” I bit my lip. I felt my own groin respond to that line of thinking. I tried not to grin. “I’ve never done this before, Asra.”

He gave a nod.

“And I am not going to do this at the table.”

He blinked, but I withdrew myself off his lap and then pulled at his arm. He stood and drew me near, and kissed me again. “Tell me you want this, then.”

“I do.”

“With me. Right now.”

“Yes.” I kissed him again, my own hunger quite evident. I broke away when he moaned into my mouth, and pulled at him until he came up with me, back up the stairs and onto the bed and over me. He pulled his tunic off and then pressed himself against me, bare chested, and reclaimed my lips. I let my hands splay over his back and up his spine. He was warm and smooth under my touch, golden hued under my own dark skin.

A small thought suggested I should be nervous about this, but like all thoughts like that which came to me, I was quick to dismiss it. I was too busy enjoying the feel of his waist against my thigh and knee as I wrapped my legs about him. He gave a test to his hips, his erection sliding up against my own with two layers of cloth between us.

“I’ll ruin my trousers this way,” I murmured.

“You should probably take them off then,” he replied.

“I would but…it seems there is an Asra laying on me, and I can’t move or else he’ll move and I like him just where he is,” I bit my lip. I bucked my hips against his. This backfired, as a jolt of pleasure gripped me again as my hardness rubbed against his.

He chuckled and pulled back to tug on my trousers until I was exposed to him. My erection bobbed up against my belly once freed. He put his fingers against me, his touch soft yet divine, lighting up my nerves to a focus that wrested my attention. His touch lingered under the head, then down the shaft before cupping me, squeezing softly…

“So you’ve done this before,” I breathed. “I haven’t. I mean, you know. Because I told you. And you…!” I pressed up into his touch, my babbling cut off suddenly. His thumb was tracing the delineation between the head and the shaft, the though maddeningly soft. I caught a glimpse of him, and his lips curled in evident amusement. “In case you were expecting anything spectacular…!”

“You and I have differing definitions of spectacular, then,” he said. His gaze was appreciative, following his fingers that traced up my abdomen and then my chest, pausing only to untie my tunic and push it aside. He leaned to press kisses to my skin, all the while his other hand stroked me. I whined under him, then gave an undignified giggle when he laved his tongue upon a sensitive spot just inside where my hipbones jutted forward.

“Ah…haha, how, how did you know about that?” I pushed at his head, but he did it again. I squirmed.

“You’re telling.”

“I’m not!”

“Your energy is…sending things out, unchecked. Like…how you liked it, and are wondering if I’d use my tongue…other places.”

“Reading without permission is rude.” I laughed anyway. He’d pressed his thumb into the spot. He only raised his brows, then bent and dragged his tongue up the underside of my cock. My laugh transformed into some undignified sound, then died in my throat to some sort of soundless moan when he did it again. His violet gaze stole a glance to me before his lips wrapped about me and enveloped me in warm wetness.

Whatever I was going to say next was just…not important. I sat up on my elbows to watch, my teeth nibbling at my lip. It felt…so good, his tongue and lips sliding up and down over me, but somehow, it wasn’t as good as _seeing_  him. His lashes, colored dark by a bit of make-up he’d found, were fanned against his face, which was flushed with natural blush, betraying his arousal. His lips, so soft and full of curves, fit around me perfectly. That soft hair threatened to tickle sensitive skin.

He paused to pull himself off, then treated me with a glance of those half-lidded, violet eyes. He brushed his half parted lips against my length, and spent a good moment waggling the tip of his tongue against the most sensitive part of me. I gave a gasping chuckle. Fluid seeped from me, and he took it in with one lap of his tongue. I could only stare.

“What?”

“How…where?” I shook my head. Curls fell in my face. I couldn’t think of a coherent thought. “Can…Can I do that too?”

He blinked. If he was expecting me to be bashful, or to hesitate in any way, perhaps now he realized how erroneous that thought was. “If you’d like.”

I sat up and impatiently tossed away the wrap that had pooled itself at my elbows, then helped him to shed his newly found clothing. We switched positions, with him reclining against the pillows and blankets, his golden form perfect, but a bit too thin, as I’d suspected. He raised a brow, as if sensing my thought, and I remembered that I was projecting. I wriggled myself down against the sheets, enjoying a bit of friction. I didn't miss how he watched me.

“You read auras, Asra?” I asked. I ran my hand down his chest, slowly. He was smooth and clean, all the way down to the silvery down that barely blessed him below the waist. I dug my fingers through it, nonetheless.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Tell me…how is mine, now?” I mimicked the movements he had given me, mostly as I had no idea what I was doing. I traced my fingertips down his length as he had done, and paid attention to the parts he had. He was a little less vocal about it, though, and the only sign I’d done anything good was the flutter of his eyes and the swallow in his throat.

“Red,” he said at last. “Large. Yellow, magentas. Playful” He let out a breath neither of us had realized he was holding, as I had leaned down to press a kiss between head and shaft. “Inviting…”

I laved my tongue about him, wishing to taste every part of him. My hands rested on him, one at his hip, the other tracing idle patterns on the delineations of his muscles through his chest and stomach. I love to feel his breath rise and fall in him. He was so silent, I could tell when I had done something well when his breath hitched under my touch.

I took him in my mouth after much teasing, and explored the weight of him there, on my tongue. I tested how far I could take him in, and pulled off. He seemed patient enough to let me explore him. When my curiosity was satisfied, I set to slowly sucking him down and back again. Again, his voice was quiet, but his body gave up subtle clues. The hitch of his breath, a squirm in his arms or legs. His hips pressing into the bed or into my hand. I tried to give him more of what made him react. I forgot about my own arousal. This…this was enough for me. This, and the taste of him when he leaked onto my tongue, and the heat he gave off under my fingers, heat that flushed up against my lips when they met his skin.

“Hani…” he breathed it some time later. I looked up at him, but didn’t stop. He was so beautiful, his hair a mess on the pillows, his arm draped over his eyes. The other hand grasped at the sheets.

I pulled away only to speak one question. “Am I doing this right?”

“Perfect…” He swallowed. His choker danced with the movement. “I’m…”

Close. Yes. This much I could tell. His skin was flushed, his own cock taking on a deeper hue. I sat up and stroked him, my hand swirling about him to render him speechless once more. I let my eyes take him in. From this angle, I could see all of him. He was…gorgeous, like this. This unassuming and gentle creature that...I knew held so much more beneath the surface. And I wanted him, more than what we were doing.

I gently pushed his arm aside, my hand still working him, so that I could kiss him. There, he moaned softly into my mouth. I worked him until his breaths kept stilling between us, and his lips forgot how to kiss. I pulled away only to watch his face as he came, his breath shuddering out of him. His spend slicked my hand and his belly. I slowed my hand to a gentle caress before letting go.

I waited until he’d found himself again. He looked up to me with that soft smile of his. I was beginning to learn his expressions. They were easy to miss, but held so much meaning. His lips found mine, and he groaned as I began to clean him up with a corner of a sheet. “Did I do well?” I asked it against his cheek.

“Very.” He looked down at himself, then at me. “Hani…” His hand wrapped about my forgotten arousal. I shuddered at the contact, but then he had turned us, so that we lay on our sides as he stroked me. I could never keep such calm composure as he had. I moaned freely, my hands grasping at him, my lips parted against his chest. I came into his hand, my hips bucking unchecked.

“I’ll need another bath,” he said, when we’d calmed a bit. I grinned. I laughed. He laughed too, but neither of us moved. I was reluctant to part from the warmth we had built, and my limbs were heavy and unresponsive. I just wanted to stay here…his arms about me…

I did not want to let him go.


	4. Ageless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucio is back.

“The Count is back!”

I smiled a bit as one of my neighbors shouted it while running by. The Count? Oh yes, that’s right. The city of Vesuvia was under the rule of Count Lucio, who had been gone to war since…well, long before I ever thought of coming here. I wasn’t too familiar with the government of the city, but the _kingdom_ had been at war for a while, and we’d received news that the war was over.

Neighbors and strangers alike started heading towards the city square. I watched them go with some amusement, but I’d told Asra I’d meet him here when he was done with the market. I looked down at the line of stalls, beginning to become impatient, but soon I spotted his pale head of hair heading towards me. He raised a brow to me when he spotted my smile, and said nothing. His fingers entwined with mine when he neared.

“The Count is back,” I said. I shrugged. “Whatever that means.”

His lips drew into a line. “Yes, I’ve heard. Let’s…”

“I want to go see,” I tugged at his hand, then hugged his arm to me. “Please. I’ve never seen a Count before. Or…any royalty.”

“He’s hardly royalty.”

“Nobility?”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t seem too excited.”

“He’s…not…” Asra sighed. “He isn’t exactly someone I would admire or flock to in awe, Hani.”

“Well, you know I’m not going to let you decide my opinion of him for me,” I raised my brows. “Let’s take a peek. If it’s boring, we can leave.”

He looked as if he was going to argue with me, but then he relented and let me lead him away. I practically dragged him to the square, where I pushed us through the crowd there until we could get a good view of a procession heading into the square. The parade began with musicians and fanfare, with dancers throwing confetti and ribbons out into the crowd. This was followed by rows of armored soldiers, marching to a drum beat. Their armor clanged with each step, creating a strange sort of music all on their own. The crowd cheered them. Someone broke through the crowd to tackle one of the soldiers in a hug. The crowd went wild for it.

After the soldiers filed by, there was a small break where dancers laden with flower filled baskets tossed petals onto the ground behind them. By this time, the crowd was quite worked up, but I wasn’t really sure what they were excited for. I was all for a parade, and this was a nice one, but nothing truly unique had happened yet. The flower dancers were followed by jesters and acrobats, then more dancers, then more bands, and more confetti was tossed about. I leaned over towards Asra, whose hand had not left my own. “Quite a large show for nothing to be truly happening.”

“Such is everything Lucio does,” he muttered back.

Just as soon as the words had left his mouth, a large while horse rode up, carrying on its back a grand looking blond man, his eyes rimmed in some sort of cultural pattern I didn’t understand. He wore white under gilded armor, including what looked to be a fully armored arm piece that went from his fingertips to shoulder, while the other arm was naked. Gold medals glinted across a red sash draped over his chest. His blue eyes looked over the crowd, and he cracked a grin before waving.

The crowd went nuts. He seemed to eat it up, and sat a bit straighter in his saddle. I looked to the sword at his hip. It glimmered in the sun, like the rest of him. There wasn’t a hair out of place, and not a surface upon him or his mount that was unpolished. Even the soles of his boots held no dirt. Attendants that flanked his mount tossed favors and coins out into the crowd.

“Count Lucio, loved and loving as long as attention is paid for,” Asra muttered. “And received.”

I got a sneaky suspicion. “You know him, don’t you?”

“He and I go…way back.” Asra’s frown deepened. “Something’s wrong here.”

I looked over the man, who was now drawing near to us. Asra pulled his shawl down to shade his eyes, as if he was afraid to be recognized. Lucio’s gaze looked over me, as if I wasn’t really there. I noticed that he did not look at anyone, but looked through them, or beyond them. I caught a few coins and favors tossed my way. Asra pulled them out of my hands and dropped them to the ground. “Hey!”

“Don’t. Can’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“There’s…magic. Look.” He motioned to Lucio, who was beginning to move away. “I’ve known that man since I was…six? Seven? And then he left to rejoin the war.”

“So?”

“He still looks the same!”

I frowned and looked to the Count, whose back was to us now. The man appeared to be our age at most, maybe a little older. If Asra knew him since he was young, he’d have to be… “Do you think some sort of magic is keeping him from aging?”

“I don’t…” Asra frowned. “I can’t tell. I just can…feel something off. Can’t you?”

I concentrated on the figure, and then I felt it. Something _was_ off, but as Asra said, I couldn’t place the reason why. “Yes…I see what you mean. I think.”

“There’s his wife!” Someone said. They pointed.

“Lucio wasn’t married when he left,” Asra informed. Our eyes turned to a woman riding sidesaddle on a slender dark bay mount. Her skin was darker than my own, her hair a beautiful cascade of purple. She looked over the crowd with a stare that made me a bit uneasy. No. It wasn’t my unease. It was hers. She was not from this kingdom at all, and here she was, being paraded through this strange place, her husband leaving her to ride alone so that he could soak up his glory.

I offered her a smile when her eyes turned to me. I saw the corners of her lips quirk, but that was about as much emotion as she seemed to want to show. She passed, and then there was a gaggle of military personnel on horseback, which all seemed rather boring.

Then there was _him_.

He was tall, that I could tell, even though he was on horseback. Tall and pale, with a head of unruly auburn hair. Despite the warm day, he wore an all black doctor’s uniform, a red medic’s symbol emblazoned on his sleeve. This one was not from this kingdom, either. He looked upon the crowd as if impressed.

“He’s the one who cut off the Count’s arm!” someone whispered near us. “He’s so…pale.”

“And tall.”

The man raised a brow, as if he’d heard. His eyes, gray and sunk deep within his skull, or, perhaps the prominence of his nose made it seem so, looked over the crowd until they landed on Asra, then on me.

His lips, dark and slim, cracked into a grin. I smiled back. I couldn’t help it. For a moment, I felt like I was having some private conversation with this man, even though he was far beyond hearing any words I would have spoken. He looked as if he were on the edge of laughing at something, but then it sank back into a smirk, and he turned his eyes away.

And then, he too was gone.

The rest of the parade was rather boring, and the townspeople began to disperse. Some hung about in groups to talk about what they had seen. The energy was excited about us, and I felt it easily. I turned to Asra to begin to babble about the parade, but only he seemed untouched by the Count’s return. He cast an uneasy glance about us, his hand’s grip tight in mine.

“Hey,” I said. His eyes shifted to mine. “Is everything alright?”

“No. Um…look, Hani, I’ve…”

“Got to go. To check on your friend?”

“Yes…”

I tried not to let my smile drop. Asra had an odd habit of disappearing at random times to ‘check on his friend,’ and was often gone for days at a time. I had no idea who this friend was, or where to find him if I needed to. I had gone to the docks a few times to search Asra out during these times, only to find the place cold and empty.

Sometimes Asra would leave at the middle of the night, when he did stay with me, which I hated the most. I’d wake up to an empty bed, and a cold stove, and would be beset with uncharacteristic worry.

“Go ahead.” I pulled my hand from his. I’d meant for the movement to be easy, but it came off as if I were trying to wrench away from his grasp. He blinked at me. I sighed. “Just…hurry back, alright.”

“Hani…” Asra reached for me. For some reason, I stepped away from the touch. I was irritated, and I couldn’t place why. The last thing I wanted was for him to touch me, or try to assure me.

“The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back.” I meant to make it sound cheerful. “Right?”

Asra let his hand drop with a little soundless scoff. “Right.”

“I hope…I just hope one day you’ll tell me what you really do when you go.” I cast him a glance, but he didn’t move. He was a frozen pillar of unreadable emotion. So I turned, and I left him there. I made my way home and set the store sign to ‘Open,’ then took my seat behind the counter with a huff.

My emotions forced themselves up at me. I was never one to really bottle them up, but the ones surrounding Asra could become so _complicated_ sometimes. He was, without a doubt, easy to love, but…also hard to understand. He was formed of secrets upon secrets, and it seemed as if he was reluctant to even tell me one of them.

And it angered me. Why? Why did it anger me? I didn’t necessarily want to know his secrets. That wasn’t the point. It was…it was because I’d been so open with him, and so willing to share. I’d offered him a place to stay, and sometimes he did stay. I let him set up his business in the back room, and he paid me what he could for the space. I’d told him all about where I came from, about my family, about what I planned for the shop, everything…

And he…

He was little more than a stranger who shared my bed.

I only knew who he was on the surface. I knew what he wanted me to know. I doubt it was because he wanted to protect me from something. And I felt that I had been quite accepting of him. His homelessness, his own intense brand of magic. How he did not seem to fit within any label aside from _magician_. This…nearly ethereal being existing beyond binary – that much he’d confessed to me – and beyond the limits of this plane.

So why was it that he did not trust me? Why could he not take me with him? Why was it that he felt he needed to keep me separate from…some other life he had?

Other life.

Other person?

I saddened suddenly. “Someone…else?” Asra did say that he had to check in on a friend often. Not all the time. Who was…this friend? I rested my head in my hands. I…thought of Asra, with someone else. I suppose the thought should have upset me, but it made sense to me. Asra was free with his touches, with what he did with me in bed. It was obvious he’d been with someone before me. And…I realized I did not _mind_ if he was affectionate with another person. But when I thought of him keeping it _secret_ , that is when I grew upset again.

I sighed. There was nothing I could do about it right now, as it would probably be days before he returned. So I set to dusting things in the shop, and a few customers came in, so I helped them with whatever they needed. They talked to me about the Count, and I returned to my usual cheerful self. I grew excited again, and soon had forgotten all about Asra and his supposed infidelities.

It grew dark, and soon the customers stopped coming. I set the lantern out outside, then changed the sign and closed the door. I found some leftovers to heat up – soup of Asra’s making, with balls of meat against noodles in a spiced broth. I found no joy in the fare this night. Every bite reminded me of millions of potential secrets he was keeping from me, and I knew that whatever it was, I just could not stand the fact that they were secrets any longer.

I was going to have a talk with Asra when he came back. I gave him so much, and he…I didn’t think he understood how the lack of trust hurt me. I had to be fair, though, and tell him. What he did with it…I couldn’t control. But I had to say something.

The door opened, and the bell chimed, letting me know that a late customer was here. Some did come after dark, usually for readings. I set my food aside and went to greet them…only to see Asra standing there, along with…the tallest man I’d ever seen in my life.

The man was not only tall, but broad besides. Long black hair hung limply from his head, and he seemed keen to hold a cloak about him so that as much of him was covered as possible. Scars lined the skin I could see. Large green eyes looked up at me before glancing away.

“Asra…?” I didn’t come down the stairs. Something told me that this man didn’t want me near him. He didn’t want anyone near him. He didn’t want to be here. “Who…who is your friend here?”

Asra motioned with his eyes for me to hurry down the stairs, so I did. I approached them, and the man took a step back. He was a head and a half taller than me, and despite his unkempt appearance, was actually quite clean smelling. His eyes met mine once more. Nervous energy rolled off him, and I sensed that he did not have much experience with people. There was something else too. Hurt. Pain, and not just his pain.

I smiled, warmly.

“Hani,” Asra said. “This is my friend, Muriel. The one I go to see sometimes. He…is my closest friend, since I was a child.”

Muriel’s mouth quirked a bit. His lips were straight and full, but he kept his face schooled and neutral. Or so he thought. His eyes were so sad. Despite the formidable figure he cut, and how small he made the shop seem, his energy was pulled close, and he…there were protection charms written in it. Asra’s charms.

“Hello, Muriel.” I extended a hand. “I’m Hani.”

He looked to my hand, then turned his gaze to Asra. Asra gave a nod, so he took my hand with the wrong one of his own. He could easily enclose my hand in his. His skin, while calloused and rough, was warm and…soothing. He let go after a few seconds, and let his hand fall to his side.

“Are…are you two hungry? I’m reheating some of that soup…” I motioned back to the back room. Muriel’s lips parted, and I am sure he was about to state that yes, he was hungry, but he thought different about it. Asra took his arm, though, and pulled him along. He helped him to sit at the table, making accommodations for him by pulling the table back. Muriel pulled the hood of his cloak down. I smiled then left to go get the soup, my smile disappearing as soon as I was not within their sight.

I ladled out two bowls, then stuck two heels of bread onto the lip of the bowls. I looked at them for a moment, then added a few extra meatballs to Muriel’s bowl, and turned to go.

And nearly ran right into Asra. I cursed under my breath and admonished him. “Asra!”

He deftly pulled the bowls away and set them on the counter. “Hani…I’m sorry. I know you’re upset. I…I don’t want you to think…”

“To think that you keep things from me?” I brushed past him and set a kettle on the stove, perhaps a little too hard. I grabbed a box of tea from a shelf and spooned some into an infuser, spilling some on the floor. “Or perhaps that, despite me welcoming you into my home, and sharing my bed with you, my clothes…my _tea_ , that you cannot just tell me what it is you do when you go?” I turned to face him and crossed my arms before me. “You’re a stranger, Asra. A stranger and…I…let you do this.”

His eyes softened. “No, I…should tell you…”

“I shouldn’t have let this go this far. But that is the Fool for you, isn’t it? So ready and eager, leaping forward without a care for where he places his next step?” I turned and grabbed three cups from the shelf. I set them down with audible clinks. Asra grabbed one up as it teetered on the edge of the counter, then tried to grab up my hands. I yanked them away. “Just tell me the truth, Asra. I don’t care what it is. Are you sleeping with him? Is he your lover? Do you have other lovers, besides me? I don’t…I don’t care if you do. Just tell me. I hate not knowing! I hate…I hate worrying about you, when it is so easy to just _tell me_ …”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, he is. Or he was. A while ago, he was, when we…were younger. But not anymore. Not since you.”

“Then why the secrecy?”

“Because I have to protect him.”

“From me?”

“From Lucio.”

My fight left me with a scoff. “From the Count?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know if you are aware of your friend, Asra, but I think, in a fight, _your friend would win._ ”

“Not the way Lucio fights. He doesn’t always fight with swords and armies. Sometimes it is with manipulations and force. I have to keep Lucio away from Muriel. He…you see him. He is strong in body, yes, but…he has no chance against the type of machinations Lucio is capable of.”

I sighed and leaned against the counter. I raised my hand and let it drop in resignation. “Why couldn’t you just tell me? Did you not think I’d believe you?”

“I…had promised Muriel a long time ago that I would never tell anyone about him. When Lucio left, we made sure he was hidden. His safety has been assured by not letting anyone know where he was. We…he became forgotten. But…I should have told you something. I thought I had told you enough but…now I see it wasn’t enough” His gaze was focused somewhere else in sadness. “I’m sorry, Hani. I…never meant to hurt you.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the kettle began to whistle at that moment. I set the infuser in the teapot, then poured hot water over it. The aromatic tea seemed to soften our energy, and we were quiet as it steeped. I poured out three cups, then set them and the teapot on a tray. “Why did you bring him here, then, if it is dangerous for him to be seen?”

“He insisted.”

“ _He_ insisted? He doesn’t seem the type to insist on seeing someone.”

“He knew I was upset, and I told him why.”

“He knows about me? About…us?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since…since the day after the docks. He…did not want me to lose what we have. And so, we are here. He can be quite persuasive when he wants to be.” He hesitated. “Hani…I can tell you whatever you want to know. I don’t want….”

I grabbed up the bowls. “One secret at a time, Asra. Let’s go before it gets cold.”

He deflated a bit, but nodded and took up the tray with the tea. We headed back to the back room, where we set to doling out the tea and bowls. I gave Muriel a smile as I set his in front of him, but his gaze was on the food. I sat behind my own half eaten bowl and waited.

“You were arguing,” Muriel said, taking up his spoon. It seemed diminutive in his grasp. He dipped it in the soup and fished out a meatball. “About me.”

Asra blinked, his own spoonful of soup close to his lips.

“No, not about you,” I said. “Although I am glad to meet you. Asra must care for you very much to go to check on you as he does. He’s a good friend.”

Muriel set the spoon in his bowl and leveled a look at me. “If it were not for me, you would not be upset with him.”

“No. I’d still be upset.” I looked to Asra. “Although I understand why he did what he did. No. I am upset because…I don’t like to worry. I don’t like…” I looked down at my soup. “I don’t like feeling like I am not allowed to make the decision of my own understanding of the person I care about.” I looked to Asra. His face was pained.

I pushed my bowl away and stood. “Excuse me, please.” I made to stand.

A large hand enclosed over my wrist. “No.” I stilled, for Muriel’s glare was…quite angry. But it wasn’t anger directed to me. It was to Asra. “You…fix this.” He stood and let me go, and turned to leave the back room. He thought better of it, however, and grabbed up his bowl before departing. We heard him shuffle off to the storefront, where his bowl was set on the glass counter, and he pulled up my stool to eat.

I didn’t sit. I stood there awkwardly, and wrestled with my revelation. My heart stung with every beat. I wanted…I wanted to cry. So I did.

Asra’s spoon hit the table, and then he was beside me and trying to pull me close. I pushed him away, or tried to, but then he had his arms wrapped about me. “I’m sorry, Hani. I didn’t know…”

Somehow, I knew he didn’t know. He didn’t know that what he had done had hurt me. This was not something he could anticipate, because…somewhere along the way, it had not become part of who he was. But that didn’t erase how I felt. My hands fisted at his jacket, the one I’d restored, at his sides. I wanted to push him away and pull him close at the same time.

“Hani…I didn’t mean to do this. I…shouldn’t have. I’ve never done this before, Hani. I am…sorry. Please…I just…didn’t want to hurt Muriel. Or drag you into this. It’s…a sticky situation.”

I looked up at him and sniffed. A tear dripped from my chin. “Asra, I care about you. I care what happens to you, and what you care about. I know you have…your life before me. And I can’t be selfish in asking you to expose all your secrets to me. But…I just wish you’d include me in some of it. Like…I matter enough to you to let me in. I do matter, don’t I?”

“Yes, of course!” His fingers brushed away a tear. He swallowed, his throat moving hard. “I…honestly thought I was doing the right thing.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I was wrong.”

“It is easy to say such a thing, Asra. Then tell me. What is it you feel now?”

“Feel?”

“Tell me.”

“I…am afraid.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

I met his eyes. “You…aren’t going to lose me, Asra. Not today, anyway.”

“But…”

“Its an argument. You don’t throw away everything over an argument.”

Fear was unmistakable in his gaze, however. “And I’m…Hani, I don’t like leaving you. I know I’m happy when I’m with you. I can forget about everything when I’m here. You’re like home to me. It all feels…right. It hurts to leave. I…want to share everything with you, but I’m scared to do so. I’m scared of what may happen, or what you may think. But please don’t think I don’t trust you. I’ve…never been as close to anyone as I am with you. I can see how distant I may seem to you but…I feel surrounded by you. You are within my thoughts, always. I’ve never felt this way about anybody.”

He stuttered to a halt in his speech. I saw that it took everything for him to spit that out, and perhaps he had resigned to say it a while ago.

“Please…don’t cry,” he said softly. His words choked up.

“I’ll cry if I want,” I said, even as I brushed the tears away. I took in a deep breath. His cheek came to rest upon mine, then his lips against my skin. The kiss was hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if he should. I turned my face and kissed his lips. His breath left him in a shudder, and something wet crazed my cheek. It was not my tears, this time. Trembling hands held me. I stilled them in my own hands. I pulled from his kiss to press a my lips to his knuckles.

We heard the scrape of a spoon against an empty bowl. Asra brushed his tears away with the heel of his palm, and gave me a small smile.

“I suppose your friend deserves a second helping?”

“Hani, I’d like it if he was your friend too. I know…he’s rather standoffish, but, he’s a good person. His past isn’t mine for me to tell, but…he’s just a good man who has gone through a lot. He may not seem like he wants it, but having another friend would do him good.” He smiled. “Especially if that friend is you.”

I smiled. “I’d be honored.” I straightened my clothes and hair, then stepped from the back room. Muriel sat in the front of the shop with an empty bowl, his eyes on a stack of books on the counter there. He looked up? Down? When I neared, and I was rewarded only with the part of his lips when I smiled at him and took up the bowl. “More?”

“Please.”

“Come sit with us, then.”

“Are you…sure?”

“Yes. Everything is…well, it will be fine. Thanks to you. Come. I can’t have my special guest sitting alone in the dark.” I waved him to follow me, and headed back to the back room. I heard him stand and follow, his steps heavy against the wood floor. He took his seat again, and I went to serve him more food. I returned to see them both waiting for me. I took my seat after setting Muriel’s bowl before him.

We ate in silence, although it wasn’t all awkward. Asra’s hand came to take up mine under the table. I gave it an assuring squeeze. I still felt…sore about it all, but I knew that it was something that could be healed. I knew there was more behind their friendship, but that would come in time. I could not force it from them. But the possibility of being trusted with it was enough for me. And…Asra was back.

I finished eating before them as I had started before they had arrived. Full and…with my heart eased, I pulled myself closer to Asra and leaned against him. I rested my head upon his shoulder. He allowed himself to chuckle, and turned to Muriel to say something. I shut my eyes and let myself sink into his warmth. I suddenly felt so very tired.

“Your…partner is sleeping,” Muriel said. “I should go.”

“No,” I murmured. “Stay.” I yawned. “You can have the bed.”

“And where will you sleep, hmm?” Asra nudged me a bit.

“On the floor with you.” And it was true. Asra could only tolerate the bed so much. Even if he fell asleep with me on the bed, some nights I’d wake to see him curled up on a pile of cushions on the floor, like his bed in his home under the docks. I didn’t see the appeal, but, I figured I could manage it for the night.

“Are you sure?”

“Mmmhmm,” I shifted a bit. I could nod off there, drawn in by Asra’s presence.

“Then let’s go, before you fall asleep here,” Asra said softly. He dislodged me and then helped me up the stairs and to the pile of cushions. I curled up on them, and when Asra was sure I was comfortable under a blanket, he went back downstairs to talk with Muriel. I could hear their words a bit, even though they were somewhat muffled.

“Are you sure that he is alright?” Muriel said it.

“I…hope so. Thank you, Muriel. I know it goes against everything you find comfortable to come here.”

“I know he is important to you, Asra. Are you…going to tell him about your parents?”

I perked up a bit.

“Do you think I should?”

“Asra…”

“I should. You’re right. I need to tell him.”

“Maybe he will know what to do.”

There was silence for a bit. “It wouldn’t hurt. I don’t know what else to do. But…he picked up on them, I think. He showed me their card.” A pause. “I didn’t mean to get pulled in this far, Muriel. But he’s…”

“Special.”

“Yes.”

“You love him.”

“Muriel…”

“I won’t tell.”

I pulled my blanket tighter over me. He…loved me?

“Are you sure I should stay? I think I can make it home.”

“No. With Lucio back…”

“He’s at the palace.”

“But he could be looking for you. He could be sending out people to find you.”

“…fine.”

“Besides…Hani likes you. He wants you to stay. He likes taking care of people.”

“Fine, Asra.”

I turned onto my other side and buried my face into the pillows as I heard them come up the stairs. First, Asra’s lighter steps, and then, Muriel’s heavier ones that caused the boards of the stairs to creak. I heard Asra help Muriel get comfortable on the bed, and then he was at my side. His hand pulled my hair from my face. I blinked up at him wearily, then lifted the blanket so that he could join me.

I relaxed in his embrace, and pulled his arm about me tight. “Thank you, Asra…”

His only response was a kiss to my neck, and his thumb rubbed over the joint of my own wrist and thumb. The touch lulled me to sleep, and I accepted it, as all I wanted was to put the trying day behind me…


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani gives Asra a proposal.

“Asra,” I said. My head was resting against his naked torso. My hand idly stroked him. He was reading a book. We were in bed, and it was either really early or really late.

“Hmm?” Asra turned a page, then turned it back again.

“There’s something you want to tell me.” And it was true. He wanted to tell me, but like his secret with Muriel, he was having trouble telling me. A few anxieties were hidden in his energy, but they licked against mine in testing touches. “And you are afraid of how I’d react.”

Asra’s breath stilled. “You have a strange idea of foreplay, Hani.”

I let go of him and rolled so that I leaned over him. I pulled the book away so that I could look upon him, and made sure I did not lose his place. His face was unreadable, but his energy was erratic against mine. “If it makes you feel better, Asra, I heard you and Muriel talk about it. I figured you would tell me when you were ready but…”

Asra’s eyes trailed to the side. He then turned from me, and gently pulled away so that he rolled out of bed. I sat back and waited. Perhaps I had pressed him too soon…

He pulled on my wrap. Somehow, we’d started sharing clothes. He fit them better now that he was eating more. He pulled the hood over his head, and paced the room a bit in bare feet before turning to look at me.

“My parents disappeared when I was little,” he said. “One day they were here, and the next, they were gone. When I leave, I go to…”

My mouth slid open, and then the next moment I was on my feet and drawing him into an embrace. He let me, and at first didn’t immediately return it. But then he’d rested his head on my shoulder, and I felt a tightly-wound breath leave his body. “Asra…you don’t have to tell me. This is so personal…I…”

“I want to though,” he murmured, his lips against my neck. “I need to tell you. Besides…its hardly some horrible secret.” I nodded. “I just…” He let go of me and took a step back. “I thought I would have found them by now. It’s been…years. My whole life. practically.”

I thought of how he disappeared all the time. Sometimes to help Muriel, which I learned were trips to take the other man food and supplies. Other times, when he left, it was to go to his other home. The ‘sanctuary’ as he called it. The little place out in the desert, which was more of a home than the alcove under the dock. He’d taken me there once. I had to admit…it was a nice place. If I didn’t have business in Vesuvia, I’d never want to leave.

And now I knew why he always came back to Vesuvia, the city ruled by the Count who hunted his friend.

“Every time I think I get close, I find out that I am further from finding them as I’ve ever been.” He shook his head in thought. “I am starting to think that they don’t want to be found.”

“Asra, I am sure that is not true.” I thought back to my impromptu reading on the docks. “Theirs is an energy of love. Love does not… _abandon_. There must be a reason.”

“Then why didn’t they come back?” Asra’s eyes met mine. His voice cracked, an for a moment I could imagine his younger self asking me that question. “Why have I had to…fend for myself this whole time?

I blinked, and suddenly understood Asra’s hesitance in telling me this particular secret. It wasn’t that he couldn’t trust me. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to tell me. It was because of this…reaction. To think of _why_ , instead of just the action in righting what was so very wrong.

“I am sure there is a reason,” I said. I cupped his face in my hands. He rested his forehead against mine. “I know, sometimes, when you leave you think that you are only gone for a little while, a lot of time has actually passed. Perhaps…they just…” I shook my head. “You fear they do not love you.”

He could only nod a bit.

“Why would you think that?”

“I…” He sighed. “Muriel’s parents abandoned him. There’s quite a bit more evidence for that than in my own assumption of my parents doing the same. Because, I remember my parents. I remember how much they loved me. And I know they did. But Muriel thought the same of his parents. And we ended up the same. Alone, and at the mercy of the Count. Who would subject their child to that…monster? On purpose?”

I couldn’t answer these questions for him. They weren’t questions he truly wished to ask anyway. They were wonderings, brought on by sorrow and a lack of answers. They were just…thoughts he wanted to trust me with.

His true secret.

“You don’t betray them by feeling this way,” I whispered to him. “Anyone would think the same thing. You’ve been so strong, and have resisted the thoughts for so long.” I worried my lip. “Your secret is safe with me, Asra.”

Now he embraced me in earnest. We shared a breath before he kissed me. It was languid and delicious, and spoke of just a need to have me close. If I thought he was affectionate before he began telling me secrets, the more he told me, the more he wanted to be near me. His walls were breaking down, one by one. It made me feel…loved.

Which he hadn’t said to me yet. I’d only overheard it. But I knew. It was just another secret he’d divulge.

When he was ready.

“I think…” he said.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’ll try to make that pie now.” He let me go with a smirk that I knew, after months of knowing him, meant he was toying with me. He pulled on some trousers – his own this time – and left me there in the bedroom, stark naked, to go putter around in the kitchen.

I groaned, and not only because he’d gone with my own wrap. I found another and put it on, then hurried to go find him pulling things to make pie. At least, that is what I assumed. He kept the pantry stocked with all sorts of ingredients these days, most of which I didn’t know what to do with on my own. He’d tried to tell me about mixing different doughs and soups, but I’d never progressed beyond a simple pasta dishes. And even then, he had to make the pasta first. And the sauces. And the bread that went with it.

I took up a perch on a stool in one corner of the kitchen, and watched him. Not only did he know what to do – without looking at a recipe – but he did it artfully and cleanly. He pulled out a jar of orange puree, and I realized it was pumpkin.

He’d been planning this.

“Asra?”

“Hmm?”

“Move in with me.”

His hands had stilled on a ball of dough that he’d brought out of the mixing bowl, and a rolling pin. His lips parted, showing a hint of his teeth, and his violet eyes rolled up to meet mine. “Move in?”

“Yes.” I rested my chin on my hand, and my elbow on my knee. “I mean…more than you are now. Stay here. You know. All your things, in with my things. And your clothes, here. Your dirty laundry left in the bath, and forgetting from time to time which toothbrush is yours until its too late, and arguments over what we’re having for dinner, or if we want to go out for a bite instead…stepping on each other’s toes, getting in each other’s ways…”

“And…you can call it home too, of course. I’ve had a key made. Its in that drawer.”

His hand left the dough ball to pull open the drawer nearest him. It had been cleared of all things save for a single key. For a moment he looked at it in his hand. I’d strung a violet ribbon through it, the same color as his eyes.

He looked about, taking in the place. With two people, the place was almost a bit small. But with just one, it was too big. At least, it was to me. He held up the hand with the rolling pin. “With this meager kitchen? And stove salamander?”

I opened my mouth in affront.

He chuckled and slipped the ribbon over his head. He flashed me that subtle smile of his, then returned to rolling out the dough. I knew, then, that he’d accepted.

He was home.


	6. Rebound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani finally meets Lucio's mysterious doctor.

A year.

It had been a year, to this day, since Asra had gone out of that door, the one I stared at now, and had never come back. I had doubted he’d really leave, but the days had stretched into weeks, then weeks into months. And now…I was beginning to see what had truly happened when he’d walked out that door. We’d…broken up.

When he said he was leaving, I somehow…always thought he’d be back. But the night we had seen the…illness. It had spooked him. He’d nearly raced us home and locked the door behind us. He’d begged me to leave with him, and after pressing him, I learned that the meant to leave _forever._

“I have no reason to stay, Hani. Muriel is gone…my parents are gone…I don’t want to lose you to this city too. Let’s go…let’s just go and never come back. Please…”

I didn’t want to go. And I refused. We’d argued, and this was not like the argument about his secrets. We yelled at each other. It was bitter, and angry, and we’d pointed fingers at each other. Said things that, well, I know I had said things I didn’t meant to say. I wanted to believe it was the same for him. But in the middle of all this, he told me about the illness. He’d seen it before, a very long time ago, before the Count had left for war. Before his parents had disappeared.

It would consume the city in random patterns. There was no way to determine how it spread. The usual theories of miasma did not seem to work with this illness. Healthy people would drop dead within a week, yet their neighbor would be spared. Whole families would be erased from the city, yet one single child would be left perfectly healthy. I told him that we could help solve the mystery. We could at least help those suffering.

He refused. The argument continued. And then…he had left. And he took Faust with him.

What he said came to pass. The disease began to spread, and in the random pattern he’d suggested. The Count was quick to quarantine whole sections of the city, and it did not spread to the city center.

For now.

I waited for him to return. The longest he’d been gone was nearly a month, before. But months had passed by.

And I proved to be as helpful as Asra had said. I provided supplies for medicines ordered by the palace, but other than that, I was not allowed to cross into the quarantined zones, and no one from there came to me for help. I didn’t know what to do, and my customer base was thinning. Perhaps people were afraid to leave their homes.

Perhaps people were dying.

I sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. So. It was over, then. I had thought that what I had with Asra was enough to make him come back, but, perhaps I knew, deep down, that there was nothing I could do or be to make him anchor himself anywhere. I’d known such joy when I’d heard his…somewhat of an admission that he loved me. Muriel had said it. But Asra hadn’t denied it.

So how could he leave me so easily?

I had thought that…this was his home. I had thought it meant something. I had thought that…I meant something.

I didn’t even have time to say that I had loved him back. I’d thought of it. I tried to say it, here and there. But the words always got caught in my throat.

Something wet dropped onto the counter before me. I blinked, and another tear followed it. I sat up and rubbed the tears away. No. I was not going to sit here and cry over Asra. I’d cried before, and had been assured by his kisses and his touches and his words, but he’d still left me.

So, I went upstairs and changed into something much more…fun. A nighttime outfit, with sleek dark blue trousers and a clean shirt, and matching dark blue waistcoat over it. I pulled my hair up, exposing the undercut I’d given myself to try to change things up. I’d done a lot in the past year to distract myself from Asra’s absence. Studs dotted my earlobes. A slim ring in my septum. I’d even put some blue dye in my hair. New clothes, new shoes.

It was all a vain attempt at distraction. But, whatever. When I was satisfied with my appearance, I closed up shop, grabbed a sleek jacket of tonal brocade, and headed into the city to find a place where I could sit and be surrounded by people, and, perhaps, feel less alone.

I found it in a tavern whose open door beckoned with the sound of laughter and the scent of good food. I found it full of people enjoying their night, although some looked to be deep in their cups around the far tables. A warm fire roared in the fireplace, and a barkeep was busy pouring rounds for patrons. I took a seat at a table that was quickly wiped clean by a waiter, who informed me of the meal being prepared. Warm baked potatoes, cranberry sauce over waterfowl, asparagus, and brown bread. If I wanted dessert, there was raspberry pie.

I ordered everything, plus a glass of ale, and paid in advance. I set my coat on the back of my chair and rolled up my sleeves to wait.

I sat back and decided some people watching was what I needed. I recognized a few faces, and when they recognized me, they headed over to say hi. No one asked about Asra, thankfully. I soon found myself lost in conversation, and Asra became the furthest thought from my mind.

My food and drink were brought to me, and a few of my friends started a game of cards at my table. We cheerfully jeered them on. It was a simple game, with one person’s card trumping the other and providing a swift win or loss. The person with the most wins at the end of the deck won the game. We hooted as they deck began to wane, and then cheered when the winner was declared.

“What’s this? Is everyone having fun without me?”

Everyone looked up at the voice. A tall figure had entered the tavern, and was leaning against the doorframe with a grin on his face. I blinked, instantly recognizing the doctor from the Count’s parade…which seemed so very long ago. His all-black uniform was gone, although he did wear more black than anyone else here. A coat was draped over his shoulder, and he stood in his shirtsleeves as casual as anybody.

“Doctor Jules!” A few people shouted it, and a few of my friends abandoned my table to welcome him. Hands were clapped onto his back, and a glass of ale was pressed into his hands. He was herded towards the bar, where the barkeep greeted him with as much enthusiasm as everyone else.

“Doctor Jules?” I questioned it to one of my remaining friends.

“Yes, the Count’s personal physician,” I was informed. “He stayed in Vesuvia after the war, and now is working to stop the plague.”

The plague? Was it a plague now?

I looked to the doctor. He clinked his glass against another, and then was busy chugging his ale along with his friend. He choked on laughter, and rubbed foam from his lip. He was the picture of carousing entertainment in that moment. It was hard to see him as something as serious as a doctor.

His eyes caught mine. He raised his glass in a gesture of acknowledgement.

My face flushed.

He’d already turned away to speak to someone else by the time I thought to do anything else. I grabbed my own glass and gulped ale as if it were water, then focused on my food. I ordered another ale when the waiter came by.

“I’ve got it.” A glass was set before me. Foam spilled over the edge onto the table, and then someone was sitting across from me, setting their own glass before them. I found myself face to face with the doctor, who smiled. I blinked. The waiter moved off. “Sorry to steal all your friends away.”

“Uh…” I took up my glass. “No worries. Thank you.” I motioned with my glass and took a sip. I blinked at it. “This is better than the last glass I had.”

“The barkeep keeps the good stuff for friends.” The Doctor winked at me. “I’m…”

“Doctor Jules,” I smirked and motioned to the others. “You seem to be a popular one here.”

As if on cue, a few people broke away from the bar to come over. One of them roughly grabbed the doctor by the shoulder, causing some of his ale to spill. He only laughed in response. “Tell him about your pirate adventures, Jules!”

“No, no, tell him about when you snuck into the Count’s army!”

“Hey, Doctor!” Someone pushed something into the doctor’s hands. I saw that it was an instrument, a vielle. “Play us something, will you?”

“But I’ve just got here!” Jules laughed, however, and was soon persuaded to abandon his seat. I laughed as he was pushed up on top of a table, and a few other people had instruments of their own. An accordion, a little drum, a tambourine. Jules did not falter, and raised his bow to the strings of the instrument, and then the tavern was filled with jaunty music.

I took another swig of ale, then clapped along as people got up to dance. Hands joined other hands and they began to circle the tavern in a dancing chain of laughter and missteps. The end of the chain passed me, and a hand grabbed mine to pull me from my seat. I let them, and tried my best to match the steps. It was ungraceful, and silly, and yet, so wonderful…

The chain passed by the table where the musicians were sat, with Jules at the tabletop, tapping his booted toe to the beat being hammered out on the little drum. My eyes caught his for a moment before I was whisked away once more. It was only when the tune was done that the chain broke and we all collapsed into random chairs or into each other’s arms to laugh in delight.

I passed by my table to grab up my bread and ale, then returned to where everyone else was, just as another tune was being played. Others got up to dance a structured dance I didn’t know, with couples switching partners here and there after turns and steps they all seemed to know. I was content to just clap along and enjoy the display, as I was not familiar with Vesuvian dances.

I found my glass filled again and again, and when I tried to pay for it, my coin was refused. Irritated when I kept trying to pay, the waiter finally pointed. “Your drinks are on his tab tonight.”

I looked to where he pointed, and of course he pointed to Doctor Jules. The Doctor was lost in his playing, sweat glimmering on his brow and his shirt undone, exposing the planes of his chest. His gloves were tucked into a back pocket, and his coat was…somewhere. His hair moved wildly with the movements of his arm as he played. I got a wild idea and downed my last glass before I got up and stood before him and his table.

He looked down at me, but didn’t stop playing. “Know anything not Vesuvian?”

“Plenty,” he said. He halted his playing and hopped from the table. His bow hovered over the instrument. He wasn’t as tall as Muriel, but he still had to look down at me. He looked me over, perhaps not quite innocently. “Where are you from?”

“The west.”

“The west.” His eyes gleamed before he turned to the rest of the tavern. “Anybody here know any western dances?”

“I do!” A hand shot up from the back. A girl pushed forward, her hair brown and curly, and her skin the same tone as mine. I grinned.

“Do my friend here…”

“Hani.”

“Do my friend Hani the honor of a dance.” He set his bow against the instrument and then began to play a familiar tune. The other musicians didn’t know the song, but did their best to match it. The girl grabbed my hands in hers, and then we sank into a familiar dance where I knew all the steps. There was a great bit of whirling about, the steps sort of hopping and skipping in manner. The others cleared away to give us room, and began to clap along. The tune began to gain tempo, growing faster and faster with each repetition, as the song was supposed to do. The other musicians kept skipping beats, but only could laugh at the fumbles. We kept up with the Doctor’s playing, turning and skipping faster and faster, until we fell apart in laughter, with me practically falling to my knees in surrender, unable to keep up. The girl raised her hand in victory to cheers.

The music ended, and I found myself hefted to my feet by one pale hand. I laughed up at the Doctor, and he laughed down at me.

“Hani, was it?”

 

…

 

An hour or so later, the Doctor and I spilled out into the alley behind the tavern. He pressed me up against the wall, and I let him, and then he was kissing me, and I let him. He let out a chuckle against my lips, and I laughed as well, especially when a handful of patrons left the tavern and waved at us, warning me not to take the good Doctor home, as he would never leave.

Well. I’d already been in that boat, and I wasn’t about to put myself into that situation again.

“It seems, Doctor,” I said, running my finger down his jawline. He pressed against me a bit more. He bit his lip and ducked he gaze in a lustful sweep of my own lips. “That I am unallowed to take you home, so you’re just going to have to take me home instead.”

He scoffed. “And what if I haven’t got a home?”

“Everyone’s got a home, Doctor.”

“My home is wherever I lay my head, darling.”

A voice in the back of my mind warned me, telling me that perhaps I had a bad penchant in attracting men who just could not be anchored. But then again, I wasn’t planning on this happening more than once. At least not with him. I just wanted to forget Asr…I just wanted to forget. And if it took having the Doctor between my thighs, I wasn’t going to argue.

“Then where are you planning to lay _my_ head tonight?” I grabbed up his collar and pulled him forward. He bent for a kiss, but I grinned and let him go. He gave a laugh and looked up, sucking in a breath. I saw he was trying to think of an answer. I hoped he wasn’t going to suggest a room at the tavern. His grey eyes returned to look into mine.

“I know of a place.”

He took my hand and led me along, out of the alleyway and down the night-darkened streets. I was about to ask if we were even going anywhere at all, or if he was lost, when we arrived at a small domicile with a locked door. He tried it a few times, but the lock would not give, so he bade me to wait while he climbed into a window. I heard a few things fall to the ground, and then I heard the lock turn before the door opened.

‘This is your house, isn’t it?” I asked in a moment of lucidity. I looked about us. “Are we….breaking and entering.”

“It isn’t my house, but I live here.” He paused. “Sometimes.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me close. “It’s my grandma’s house.”

“You live with your grandma?”

“She lives with me, really. Only she happens to be gone tonight. Aren’t we lucky?” He grinned and pulled me inside, then let the door shut and lock behind us. He grabbed our coats and threw them off somewhere into the front room as the dark enveloped us. He took me in his arms, and then his lips were on mine again. He pressed me against the closed door, his fingers digging into my hipbones. One hand traveled to my thigh to pull it up in attempt to hook it over his own hips, but he was too tall for it. We laughed.

We abandoned the door for a back room where the Doctor set to peeling off my waistcoat and shirt after lighting a single oil lamp. Our kisses and gropings were not at the savoring pace that Asr...well, that I was used to, but we both knew that we were each there for what we could get from the other. I didn’t know what the Doctor wanted from me. But what I wanted…well, it was pressing up against me, hard and thick.

I trailed my fingers along its length, then grasped it, causing him to pause in kissing me to let out a laugh that ended in a moan. He rested his forehead to mine. “If you’re going to be so bold, then be bolder.” His hand enclosed over mine, causing my hand to clamp down on him harder. He winced. He moaned.

Oh.

I saw a glimmer of doubt in his eyes, but I put more pressure through my fingers. He grunted and tipped his chin up. So, that is what he wanted from me. Somehow, he saw that I was in this spot, the spot to…what? Let out some frustrations? I did not bring those sorts of emotions to bed. And I did not get pleasure from hurting someone. But…

I stroked him, my touch turned gentle. His hands came to rest on my shoulders, and he was content to let me take my fill of him at the moment. Somehow, this excited me. Not the pain, not hurting him…but knowing that his entire lustful state was within my hands.

My hand reached up to pull him into a biting kiss. “Tell me what you want,” I said to him. “And I will do my best.”

“What I want.”

“You like pain?”

“Yes…”

“You enjoy not being in control…”

“Yes!” He moaned into my mouth as I gripped him again. I let him go and began undoing his tasseled belt.

“I…haven’t done this before,” I admitted.

“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured against my lips. “Whatever you give me…it is enough.” His frame jerked as I undid his trousers and eased my hand inside. I stroked him once, twice, then pushed him away in the middle of a kiss. He didn’t protest.

“Get on the bed then,” I said. I found whatever doubt I had regarding the Doctor’s tastes melting away. I’d hardly ever been hesitant about something new, anyway. And I never hoped to see him again, so what harm could it do. Even so… “You’ll tell me if I…do something you don’t like?”

“Of course.” He was on the bed, struggling to pull his shirt off. His auburn hair fluffed up when loosened from the cloth. He tossed the garment aside and rested back on his elbows, his erection hard against his belly. He reached up for something hidden on the headboards, then tossed it my way. I snatched it out of the air and looked at it.

A tin of something oily.

I shed my trousers, and he looked me over appreciatively, and lay back as I climbed over him. I kissed him, then turned my attention to the headboard. Knick knacks and random items littered the shelf behind the headboard. I found something…interesting.

I settled back to straddle the Doctor and revealed what I had found. The Doctor swallowed, then nodded. He offered his hands to me willingly, and let me use the leather strap I had found to bind his wrists to the headboard. I slinked back down his body, pulling myself flush against him, and set to kissing him again.

I only wanted to taste him, a little, before I left behind…whatever desire I had for his own. Seeing him bound like that did strike something within me. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t…leave. I rewarded him for this fact with a deep kiss that left him groaning. I trapped his lower lip between my teeth, and then, with an alien thought, decided to do something…I’d never done before. I clamped down with my teeth and drew blood.

A flush covered his chest and neck, and colored the tips of his ears. His tongue touched the bite, and even though he winced at it, he only seemed to sink deeper into this…lust. His eyes were half-open with it, and his heartbeat, under my fingers, was rapid.

I tilted his chin up so that I could kiss along his beautiful neck, and altered between kisses and bites. I didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood, but the bites were at random, taking him by surprise. He responded beautifully under me, and jolted when the pain took him just right.

I pushed myself down his chest. Though he was tall and somewhat slender in form, he was broad of shoulder and chest. I ran my hands through the hair there, colored dark in the lack of light, before laving my tongue over his nipple. He bit his own lip at the sensation, so I was soft on him, teasing him with my tongue for a few moments before I nipped at him.

I knew I had not bit him hard, but the contrast between the sensations was enough to knock his mind harshly. I nibbled at him, teasing him with my teeth, before biting again. His hands strained against the leather strap, and I heard the bedframe creak where the headboard was joined to it. “Hadi!”

“Hani!”

“Right, Hani…” He gave a noise of frustration. The heels of his boots dug into the bed as I continued teasing him, this time moving to the other nipple. One leg wrapped about me in attempts to push me forward, to cause friction between our bodies.

Something got into me then, and I let go of him with my lips. I sat up, and before I could stop myself, I slapped him. I immediately put my hand to my mouth in astonishment.

He only moaned, his head turned to the side. His leg was lax against me.

“Are…are you alright?” I reached for him tentatively. Had I just...? I looked to my hand in horror. Wonder? I'd never struck anyone before.

He opened his eyes, the silver in them rolling a bit, and looked to me. He took in my expression, and laughed. I couldn’t help it, and I began to laugh as well, although it was nervous in nature. “I am fine, darling. You…you do that rather well. I…wasn’t expecting that.”

“Neither was I!”

“I meant…I wasn’t expecting such…fervor…” He shifted and grinned up at me. “I think, perhaps, we should forget the games for now?”

“You think so?”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. And while I’m…open to such play…I can tell you are not.”

I planted my hands on his chest and leaned forward so that my face came within inches of his own. “I am fine.” And I was, even though I didn’t want to hit him again. I had enjoyed rendering him into a puddle of…whatever he was before I had done so. I had enjoyed it very much, actually. “I could untie you, if you want. But…you needn’t worry about me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Besides, I ached. I needed him, and didn’t want to stop. My fingers found the forgotten tin he’d tossed me. I undid the lid, and he watched as I slicked my own entrance. He quieted, his eyes focused on my body as I moved. I shut my eyes and stroked myself, getting lost in the sensations I was giving myself. He tried to press himself up against me, but I raised myself up on my knees to deny him of it.

I opened my eyes to find him returned to the state he’d been in before I had slapped him. His hands gripped the headboard tightly. His tongue flicked across his lips. His head fell back against the pillows when I reached back to slicken his cock. I sank down onto him slowly, drawing a whine from him, and a wordless gasp from myself. He was larger than Asra, but I suddenly realized how much I needed this now. He was just right, sliding into me. My other hand was as a weight upon his abdomen, and he obeyed the silent command not to move until he was fully inside me.

He tossed his head to the side, revealing to me the red mark my hand had left on his pale skin. I trailed my hand up his skin, my fingernails through the hair of his chest, before I caught a loose grip against the hollow of his throat. I rose up from him slowly, shutting my eyes to the sensation of it. His hips pressed against the bed to refrain from thrusting up into me.

He’d done this before, and knew just how to behave, how to act before I’d known to request it.

I rode him slowly, raising up upon him before sinking down upon him with a snap that drew all sorts of delicious noises from him. His hands fisted and pulled at the ties, and his legs couldn’t help but writhe. I did not hurt him anymore, but the denial of being able to touch me seemed to be enough for him. Even so, I leaned forward on his tall frame to kiss him, and lapped at the cut on his lip.

“Oh…please…” He whispered it. I sat back again, then leaned back against his bent legs to grind against him. At this angle, I was on full display for him. I cast him my most beckoning stare, but of course, he could do nothing about it. His elbows pulled up, threatening to drag him up the bed. Did he ever stop moving? “Hani…”

I bit my lip, but continued to ride him. I was going to ride him until I was spent, and there was nothing he could do about it. Every jolt of his body, every whine and moan he gave just fueled me, returning something to me that I hadn’t known I’d lost. My name was a repeated murmur on his lips. My fingernails were trailing red tracks down his pale skin. He was…he was…

Close.

“Not without me,” I nearly growled it. He whined, but I know he heard me. He strained anew at his bounds. But he nodded. I hastened my pace a bit, drawing out another whine.

“That is not fair…” he breathed.

“Not without me,” I repeated. His foot stamped at the bed as he struggled against his own release. He arched. The bedframe creaked again, and the leather was cutting into his skin.

“Hani! Please!” He opened his eyes to me. “Please!”

I groaned, then I felt myself come undone. My spend littered his chest, some of it hitting his chin and resting against his lip. I ground down upon him and rode out my release, and only partway through realized…he was still holding himself back. “Jules…go ahead…”

He arched, his throat dry of noise not even before I’d finished speaking. I felt his warmth within me. Every muscle of his tightened under my hand, and his chest rose from the bed as his spine curled. His release ebbed with a series of cries, one of them being my name.

He fell back lax against the bed, his hands at last limp in the ties upon the headboard.

I let myself catch my breath, and let myself enjoy his relaxing body under my fingertips. I traced the red marks I’d caused upon his skin. They were nothing special, but against his paleness, they were jarring. I reached up and undid the ties, and ran a soothing thumb over the red marks the leather had caused.

He moaned as I arranged his arms away from the headboard. I didn’t know what else to do, so I removed myself from him and settled on my side beside him. He curled towards me, eyes shut, his breathing labored. “Doctor?”

“Hmm?” His brows knitted, but he refused to open his eyes. I wiped away the bit of my spend on his lips. He flitted his tongue out to taste it before I did.

“Are you alright?”

“…yes.” He pulled me close, his forehead against mine. “Just…let me…fall to sleep. Before you go.”

I swallowed guiltily, but nodded. I waited until his breathing evened, and his arms relaxed about me. Even then…I didn’t really want to move. So I waited until the heat between us cooled. And…

Jules was beautiful, in this relaxed state. He was handsome before, to be sure, in a strange way. His features should not be handsome. A large nose, slightly beaked. Dark-rimmed eyes that spoke of too many nights without sleep. A point to his chin, thin lips, pale skin. Even his hair color was odd in Vesuvia. Not unseen, sure, but not common either. Add that to his height and the way he dressed…I looked down at the boots he still wore. They were drawn up his thighs, and leather.

Yes, very different.

But now, in his sleep…

No. No, not tonight. And not with him. I prised myself from his arms and set to cleaning myself up, leaving him curled on the bed, his broad back to me. I dressed and willed myself not to look on the man again, and forced myself to leave. The lock to the door stuck a bit, but I did get it open, and shut the door softly behind me.

The early morning was brisk. No one was awake yet, so I hurriedly made my way home, where I threw myself tiredly into a cold bed, and fell asleep.

Alone.


	7. Scientifically minded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one night stands make a bad habit of showing up again.

Life carried on after that night with the Doctor, and I made sure not to return to the tavern again. As much fun as I had, I had never…just slept with someone with no intention of doing it again. It didn’t settle with me, and I found myself, in the days after, wondering what would have happened if I had stayed the night. The Me before Asra would have stayed without a second thought. That Me would have gone back to the tavern. Perhaps that Me would have found himself in other beds too, not just the Doctor’s. I decided that, perhaps, such endeavors were not for me. I didn’t want to be reminded of what I couldn’t be anymore.

Not that I did not enjoy what the Doctor and I had done. Aside from the slap, which we both had laughed off, I found this new type of play…intriguing. I wasn’t sure I’d want to do it all the time, no, but it did help get a few…frustrations out. The Doctor had eased something within me, and I was eager to leave it at that.

I was left to wonder if he wondered about me. And I decided that he didn’t. Such a popular man like himself surely had no shortage of bed partners. No, he would certainly never want to see me again, and I was sure our paths would never meet.

Which was why I was surprised when, one day, the shop door opened and in walked the Doctor.

I sat straight up on my stool, but he hadn’t seen me. He wore his full Doctor’s uniform, all in black, and had immediately become distracted by the far wall lined in bookshelves and books. He raised a gloved hand to tap his finger on his chin as he perused. My eyes shifted this way and that as I was frozen on the spot, but still, he did not see me. I cleared my throat. “Uh…I’ll be right with you, sir.”

“Yes, fine.” He waved me off and pulled a book from the shelf. It was a book on healing incantations. As soon as he realized it, he put the book back on the shelf. “Do you have anything that is more…scientifically minded?”

“To your left.”

He looked to his left, then made an affirmative noise in his throat as he spied books more in line with his tastes. Again, he ignored my presence. I could see, now, where his ability to be a doctor came from. Within his work, his focus was as fine as any other person’s. He pulled another book out, and set to reading it.

I smirked, amused. Perhaps I’d toy with him a bit. “Is there anything in particular you are looking for?”

“I heard this was the place to come for medicines,” he said, his eyes on the pages before him. “Pain remedies. Fever reducers. That sort of thing.”

Oh. I turned to the shelves behind me and pulled a few glass bottles from their places. I rounded the counter to go to the shelves, and rested my back against them so that when he would raise his eyes, he had no choice but to look at me. But he didn’t. So I dangled the bottles before him, catching his eye. There. He looked to them, then shifted his eyes to me. Recognition came within a half-second.

“Hello, Doctor.”

“You!” His eyes widened, and his hands snapped the book shut. “I mean…” He cleared his throat, and whatever panic was within him eased away. He smirked. “Well. What a surprise.”

“Not an unpleasant one, I hope?” I raised a brow and deposited the bottles into his waiting hand.

“No.” He held my gaze, his smile turning into a slightly devilish grin. “Not at all.”

I raised my brows, then looked away from his gaze to the bottles. “Yes. Well. Pain relief, fever reducers, and…a combination of both.” I moved away from the bookshelf, then thought better of it and removed a book. I pressed it to his waiting hand. “And…how to make them.”

His fingers curled about the spine, and I could feel his gaze upon me as I moved back to my seat behind the counter. He looked about. “This is your shop then?”

“Mmhmm.”

His eyes took in the place, and I noticed how they lingered over the crystals, and the oracle decks. Bundles of sage. Charms. Potions. “Magic, then?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in all that?” He laughed and opened the book I had given him. I snapped my fingers, producing a gust of wind that knocked it out of his hands. He blinked as it crashed to the floor. He was quick to smile. “So there was a draft.”

I rolled my eyes.

He picked up the book and brought his selections to the counter, then fished for his purse. “Anyway. Before I return to flirting and charming the pants off you once again…”

I scoffed.

“I actually have some serious business for you. I work for the Count, and…the plague is not…” He paused to think of the right words. His fingers tapped against the glass counter. “It is proving to be difficult to understand.”

“I thought it was quarantined.”

“It is, for now.” His eyes met mine. He leaned against the counter. “But I am just one doctor. And people are suffering. The Countess has somehow convinced the Count to allow me to work on ways of easing this suffering, but, also allowing me to move the afflicted to a hospital located outside of city boundaries. That is added onto the clinic that I run in the quarantine zones. I need…medicines. And a lot of them.” He motioned to the three bottles between us.

“How much is ‘a lot’?”

“This quantity, thousands of times over.”

I blinked, but he was serious. I looked to the bottles. I could easily supply him with a few _hundred_ such bottles, but thousands? “I am not sure I can do that on my own, Doctor.”

“How long would it take?”

“For thousands of doses? Months?”

“What can you do in a month?”

“A few hundred doses, maybe? I will have to go harvest the materials, the supplies…and…I don’t know of any places with enough supplies to be harvested for that many doses. I…”

A gloved hand rested over mine. “I will take whatever you can give me.”

My eyes met his. I swallowed. “Very…very well. A month?”

“A month.” His hand left mine, and his other hand deposited his purse on the counter. It wasn’t a meager one either, by the size of it. He pulled it open to reveal palace coin. My eyes widened. “There’s more, if you need it.”

“Oh…no, that is more than enough!” It was actually more coin than I’d seen together in my life, with each coin worth more than all the coin in my pocket at that time. I sighed. It was enough for me to close my shop so that I could work on the Doctor’s purchases. “Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this…plague…truly frightening? From what I hear…perhaps we should all skip town.”

“It is an illness, like any other. There are treatments, cures. They just need to be found.” He motioned to the bottles. “Treatments. Found.” He smiled up at me. “And you. Found.”

“Were you looking for me?”

“I did keep my eyes open, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere. You never came back to the tavern.” The flirtation in his voice ebbed. “I…hope I did not make you uncomfortable. I know that…my particular tastes can be…”

“No,” I smirked. “I enjoyed it. I enjoyed you. You…are quite picturesque when you are completely…pinned.” I leaned forward when his cheeks flushed. “Restrained and vulnerable.”

He swallowed, then pushed off the counter. “And yet, you avoided the tavern. I don’t wish to dislodge you from your life.”

“I’m not a frequent customer.” I thought. “I’d actually never been there before.”

“No?”

“No. And…I wasn’t avoiding you.” I sat back and crossed my arms.

“Then what you were avoiding?”

I was…avoiding…

Bringing home another mistake. From starting something else that I couldn’t extricate myself from before it became…whatever Asra was. From…from… I must have spent too long trying to come up with an answer.

“Ah,” he smiled. His hands clasped behind his back, and he gave a knowing but…disappointed smile. “There’s someone else, is there not?”

“Uh…no,” I laughed and got up from my stool. “There isn’t anyone.” I pulled a square of cloth from the shelf behind me. I set it down on the counter and began to arrange the Doctor’s purchases on it.

“I figured there might be, the way you…”

“There is no one,” I reiterated, my hands tying the satchel up a little too harshly. I frowned and pushed it into his hands. He took it and had the good sense to look a little apologetic for…whatever he was going to say. “Is that all, Doctor?”

“Ah…Hani, look. I’m sorry.” His hands worried the cloth of the satchel. “I believe I’ve struck a nerve. That wasn’t my intention. Sometimes the words just…keep coming, and I haven’t the good sense to shut myself up before they do.” His fingers tapped at the leather of his other gloved hand. “It isn’t any of my business.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So you said.” I worried my lip. I sighed. I didn’t want to start an argument over something he wasn’t a part of, and I didn’t want to become angry at him for not knowing. “Oh, its fine, Doctor.”

“Jules.”

“Just…” I ignored him. “I am not looking for anything, right now. I don’t want…a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yes. A thing. A…complicated thing.”

“I am not a fan of complications myself.” He set the satchel onto the counter and leaned a hip against the glass surface. “I enjoy being a free spirit, able to come and go like the wind. Complications bring trouble. I enjoy a life…free from troubles.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

I looked to his lips. He took one step closer.

There was no dancing, no ale, no fun to be gleaned off of the energy of others in a gay environment, this time. Just him, standing too close, so close that I could smell musk and bath salts on his skin, and feel a bit of warmth coming off him. Or was that me? The room suddenly seemed hot.

So maybe I was attracted to this…gangly aberration of a man. Maybe…maybe if it were not for…for what? I couldn’t quite place my finger on it. Suddenly the reasons why not were gone from my mind. Nothing made any sense other than to have that man’s lips on my own, and so I snagged him by the lapel of his jacket and pulled him down to kiss him.

He enjoyed boldness. I could tell by how he became pliant under my lips. He wanted to see what I would do. He wanted me to just…consume him. And I did. I held nothing back, as we’d moved beyond chaste touches already. My tongue was in his mouth, and he moaned…and when I let him go his eyes were half-lidded and his face flushed.

He came undone so easily, yet I thought, perhaps, it was only that way when he was with me. That gave me a thrill I couldn’t name. A thrill I shouldn’t feel, and yet…

It was my hands that guided him to another kiss, my hands at the nape of his neck and on his waist, my touch telling him what to do. He did what I wanted, and kissed me how I liked, and it was he who let me undo the buttons of his jacket so that I could kiss his throat.

“Pick me up,” I said, my voice low with lust. His hands cupped under my ass to lift me onto the countertop. I wrapped my legs about him, pinning him against me. He wanted another kiss, but I stilled him so that my hands could feel out his body under his uniform. He was striking in it, such sharp contrasts of color. If…if we did this, I wanted him to remain clothed.

I was not gentle when I pulled him in for another kiss. The cut on his lip had since healed over, but I nipped at the spot as a reminder. He waited patiently, his lips still. Whatever I was to do, he would take it. I hesitated.

“You can, if you want,” he breathed. “I can bear it.”

Could he? Could I? I brought my fingers through his hair. I was not…sure of what to do. Last time, I hadn’t had any plan. And this time…I just…wanted to lose myself in him again. But he seemed eager to play. He wanted bites, and pulls, and _demands_. And I…

I looked into his eyes. He was…there, but… _not_. He leaned into me, waiting, wanting. What…what was this? This was…trust. He trusted me with something, and I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t understand beyond what he could offer me for a night. I suddenly felt out of sorts, as if it were me sitting at the table, ready to read fortunes, and this…strange element of desire had sat itself across from me. Was this how Asra had felt, the day he had met me? The desire, but the lack of understanding? Being…unready for it all?

“I can’t do this,” I said. I swallowed and turned away. “I can’t. It isn’t fair to you, or to me. I’m sorry.”

Jules was silent, his lips so close to mine. “What?”

“You…should go. I’m sorry, Doctor. But…I’ll bring you your order in a month.”

For a moment, the Doctor said and did nothing. But then he wordlessly shoved off from the counter. His fingers rubbed at his mouth, his middle one against the bite I’d given him the last time. “Very well.” He grabbed up his purchases, and for a moment kept his eyes on me. “I…hope I did not…disrespect you in some way.”

“No. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Except walk into my shop, when I’d almost thought my way around you too.

And then he left, his boots clicking on the wood floors, their sound punctuated by the close of the door behind him. I sat there staring at the floor for a moment, then slid off the counter. I rubbed my face in my hands.

Oh, Asra. What have you done to me?

 


	8. Wrong Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't fight fate. Or incompetent servant staff.

The Doctor had left his purse, so I fulfilled the task I was hired to do. I closed up shop for a whole month, and set out immediately to gather every supply I could find. It was as I expected, however, I exhausted every site I knew of. Each tree was stripped of bark. Each mushroom and herb was harvested.

If Asra was still there, he’d admonish me for disrespecting the landscape. And I couldn’t say that I did not disagree with the man who was not there anymore.

The palace had delivered boxes of bottles, and I set to filling them. Bottles of medicine lined the counter and walls and even the table in the back room. The process consumed my life to the point that I relied on having meals delivered to me. Days would go by before neighbors saw me. I was becoming quite the hermit.

The day before the end of the month, a knock came at my door. Palace servants, flanked by guards, entered to start packing everything up. I let them, glad that I was not going to have to find a way to deliver the goods. I watched them from my stool behind the counter, and was finding myself a bit…disappointed with the experience. Sure, this medicine would helps someone, somewhere. But I would never meet them. I could never see how these efforts benefitted anyone.

“The Count thanks you for your efforts,” a servant said, depositing a letter into my hands. I looked at the letter, but the seal on it was not the Count’s. There was a bird stamped into the wax. A raven. “As does Doctor Devorak.”

The Doctor? I looked to the servant, but he had nothing else to offer me by way of explanation. However, he laid a package on the counter before me, the contents soft under the paper. The servants and guards all filed out, taking with them a month’s worth of efforts. My shop seemed dark and empty without the bottles’ silent presences. I sighed and looked to the letter. With nothing better to do, I cracked the seam and unfolded the parchment.

_Thank you for your efforts, Hani. Please forgive me for not coming to take receipt myself. I am performing research with the Count’s team. We are trying to find a cure for this horrible disease, and I am afraid my hours don’t allow me much time to visit friends within the city. Either way, I hope all is well. You forgot your jacket the last time we entertained together. I had the servants launder it for you. You have a good sense of style. Take care, J._

My jacket? I looked to the package, then opened it. Black cloth rested inside. I frowned. My jacket that night had been mostly dark blue, but, perhaps in his lighting…

I tore open the package, then stared down in confusion. The Doctor’s own jacket rested inside. I pulled it out of the paper and looked it over. A tag was pinned to a button with my name on it. I sighed, and realized I was a bit disappointed that the Doctor hadn’t rigged this mistake himself. Some servant flubbed, and the Doctor didn’t know.

I bit my lip and ran my fingers over the lapels of the jacket. It was mostly leather. The buttons were silver, and imported. Satin lining. Silver threads worked into the trim. It was an expensive piece, even though it was simple in style. Really, how could those servants mix his jacket with mine? I tried to think of him in brocade, and chuckled.

I folded up the jacket and wrapped it in new paper. I was tired from the day, but it was still light out, and I had time to make it to the palace. I put on a coat, then looked down at the clothes I wore. Roomy, colorful. Loose trousers, a tunic, heeled mules. I’d swapped the blue in my hair for green recently.

Well, I’ve gone about town in worse.

I slipped the package containing the Doctor’s jacket into my bag. My deck rested at the bottom. I looked at it strangely. The last I’d used it…

Nope, nope. I slipped out the door and locked it behind me, then headed off towards the palace. It was a long hike to get there, but I did my best to cover the distance as swiftly as possible. A coach ran by, and I swapped one of the Doctor’s coins for a ride. Evening was beginning to end when I stepped from the coach before the huge steps that led to the palace.

I was hungry, but I’d forgotten to bring food with me. Either way…I strode up to the guards at the gates, who stepped before me to bar me from entering. I held up my hands in defense, and pulled the package from my bag. “I am the magician that had prepared the Doctor’s orders today. I…uh, something of his was accidentally given to me by the palace servants. Just…make sure he gets it.”

The guards exchanged glances, then looked to the package. “Stay here.” The guard slipped into the gate, leaving me and his partner alone. I rolled my eyes, but did as I was told. The sun was beginning to set, and my stomach rumbled. It took a bit, but the guard came running back some time later, empty handed. “The Doctor requests your presence. It seems he has something of yours as well. Follow me.”

Oh, oh no. I didn’t want to follow him. I didn’t want to go anywhere in the palace, and I did not want to meet with the Doctor. He had called us _friends_ in the letter. Was he wishing to be friends? Was it a euphemism for something? “I’d rather he just deliver my jacket to my shop…”

“Go.” The other guard gave me a shove to my shoulder. I whirled about to give him a piece of my mind, but the first guard had my by my elbow and was pulling me through the gate. It clanged shut behind us, and then I had no choice but to follow.

“What is the meaning of this?” I asked. “Is there something wrong with the medicines? If there is, I can just replace them, or refund some of the money.”

The guard was silent. He led me through the grand foyer, and then through a series of polished hallways. I barely had time to take everything in, as the guard was leading me to a locked, guarded door. A complicated lock opened, and I found myself led inside.

“If the Count…” My voice died as I took in the room. It was a library. A huge one. Or, the biggest one I’d ever seen. Books lined the extremely high walls on all sides, and shelves of books disappeared into the far corners of the room. Ivy clung to the walls and the huge windows. Expensive looking chairs stood here and there, empty. A huge fireplace roared, warming the space.

The guard motioned to the far corner of the huge room. A desk stood there, and was bathed in candle and lamplight. I was left to stand there, as the guard left without another word, sealing me inside as the complicated door locked.

I whirled back to look upon the desk. Someone was there, leaning over the desk. No, resting against it. A head of red, cushioned by one arm. I hesitated, then neared warily. I saw it was the Doctor and he was…asleep.

I frowned. The guard had left the package on the edge of the desk, and probably had done nothing to wake the Doctor. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, then…spied _my_ jacket on the back of the Doctor’s chair. A tag with the Doctor’s name was on it.

I _could_ just go and get the jacket without waking him. I bit my lip and thought of it, and even circled the desk so that I could get better access to it. My fingers were on the lapel, and all I had to do was lift it up…

The Doctor breathed in deeply, and shifted. My movements halted. I stood there, frozen, staring down at the Doctor. He didn’t wake. I looked him over, then his desk. Quite a few candles were nothing but burned out puddles of wax. The rest about him were getting close to being the same. Piles of papers sat here and there, written in a language I didn’t understand.

His face was partially hidden by a mass of auburn hair. A few day’s stubble marked his chin and cheeks. His clothes were wrinkly. I noticed a few empty glasses, and an empty plate on the floor by his feet.

He’d worked himself to exhaustion.

My fingers reluctantly let go of the jacket. I instead brushed the hair from his face. The dark pallor about his eyes seemed much darker now. I rested my hand on his shoulder and gave a shake. “Hey,” I said softly. “Doctor.”

He woke with a start and looked up to me without seeing me. A piece of parchment was stuck to his temple. I chuckled and gently pulled it off. He looked to it, then at me. “Hani?”

I lifted my jacket up into my arms and motioned with it. “It seems there was a bit of a mix-up. I think your guards didn’t wish to wake you, so they sent me up here to do it instead.” I offered him a soft smile. “It seems that you were in the middle of working…” My words died in my throat. I looked to the paper in my hands. There were a few doodles there. They started off as what I recognized as human organs. Then they turned into doodles of faces. Then, they got better, as he had been putting effort into the scrawlings. The last doodle was…me. “Uh…”

His eyes went wide, and he grabbed the parchment from me. “Yes, trying to understand the development of the disease throughout the body as it effects different organs, trying to sense a pattern…” He shoved it under a few other papers. “Um…”

“You’re a good artist, Doctor.”

“Its embarrassing, really…”

“I liked it. Can I see it?”

He looked to me, then the stack of papers. He thought on it, then fished the page back out and held it up for me to see. I smiled down at the likeness. He had sketched me with a smile, looking down from a slight profile. He’d rendered me as I was…that night. The hair, my waistcoat…everything. Crosshatching depicted the hue of my skin. He’d even rendered the texture of my hair accurately.

“Uh…” The Doctor set to straightening things up on the desk. “My apologies. Apparently the laundry staff mixed up the tags on the jackets. Oh, there’s mine. Everything seems to be in order now. Um…”

“How were you able to draw this without me being here?” I touched my fingertip to the drawing. I was not artistically minded. Aside from magical diagrams, that is. His efforts were not the best I’d ever seen, but were far beyond whatever I could ever hope to do.

“I…suppose I just…remembered you…rather vividly.” He ran his fingers through his hair and through the stubble on his cheeks. “I’m a mess…Um…how was the order? I know it was received, but I think it was just taken to the clinic. I apologize that I was unable to check over it myself…”

I realized then that he was avoiding looking at me. I turned to the drawing. I wasn’t supposed to see this. I wasn’t supposed to be here, watching him wake up, in his place of work. It was far too _personal_ , and I’d only just realized it. I was making him uncomfortable. No…nervous. Extremely nervous. Perhaps in seeing him in this state. Perhaps in…being so close.

“Can I have it?”

His eyes flicked up to mine, briefly. “If you wish…I can make you a better one, if you’d like…”

“I like this one.” I shifted so that I rested against the desk, my leg sliding up against his for the briefest moment. His hands gripped at the armrests of his chair. “Doctor…”

“Hmm…”

“I’m sorry. For what happened at the shop. You caught me at a bad time. I was…not fair to you.”

“Are you being fair to me now?” He bit his lip, and brought up a hand to worry his knuckle with his teeth. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t…”

“No, it was the right question to ask. We keep running into each other. I have a feeling if I leave today, we’ll only end up here, together, some other day. Or somewhere else. A tavern. The market. Pick something.” I sighed, shutting my eyes. I felt resignation enter me. “So what do we do about it?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he breathed. I opened my eyes and took him in again. He was pressed back into the chair, but not in attempt to get away from me. He was…restraining himself. He was so tightly wound, perhaps after many sleepless nights and days of working on end. “You just must…finish what you start, shopkeep.”

I leaned forward, and found my fingers digging through his hair. My lips hovered above his. “I intend to.”

I kissed him.

Everything I restrained in me broke through in that moment, and I kissed him again, hungrily. He took it, my lips punishing against his, and not once whimpered or moaned in protest. His lips followed mine when I pulled away, and his eyes begged of me, for anything, I am sure.

“You’ve worked so hard, Doctor,” I said, my voice husky. “You need to relax.”

He nodded.

“What are you looking to me for? I didn’t make you work yourself to passing out in the library.” I motioned about us. The Doctor blinked confused. “You got yourself into this mess, Doctor. You will get yourself out of this.”

The Doctor sat there dumbly for a half a second before he realized what I was really suggesting. He looked down at himself, then tentatively traced his fingers down the unmistakable bulge in his pants. He looked to me, and I nodded, so he continued. At first, his touches were halting and nervous. I realized he’d never done this before, in front of someone else, at least.

I stilled his hand with my own, and set to undoing his pants. His erection freed itself when I pulled the falls away. Jules bit his lip and looked down at it, his cheeks pinked. I ran my hand over his length, hoping to get him to focus on that and not his nervousness. My hands rested upon his balls, which I kneaded softly. My thumb dipped below the falls of his trousers and brushed his entrance with a dry touch. I might as well had fingered him with the way he reacted.

“Show me how you’d like me to touch you,” I said, sitting back against the desk. “Show me what you like.” His long fingers wrapped about his own cock, and he stroked himself. His blush was fierce against his cheeks, and he still sat rigidly in the chair. “Look at me, Doctor,” I said. His eyes slowly lifted to meet my own. “And pretend its me touching you. Don’t look away.”

He breathed out a wordless affirmation, but did as he was told. He continued stroking himself, but his touches were no longer stiff. He began to pay attention to parts of himself that perhaps he didn’t when left alone and desperate for quick release. His fingers played with the underside of the head, and mimicked the touch I gave him, kneading his balls softly. His fingers strayed to the soft flesh about him, and ran his fingers through the light smattering of hair there. Palms dragged up the spans of his thighs and gripped the muscle before returning to his cock, then slid up his shirt, over his belly and chest.

“Yes,” I whispered. His eyes did not leave me, even when he moaned when his hands returned to stroke himself. His grip wasn’t hard upon his length, and was slight enough so that he could swirl his hand about himself, up to the head, then back down, then…up and off.

He was teasing himself.

But in his mind, it was me.

I wanted to let him work himself to release, but I couldn’t. I pulled myself onto the arm of his chair and pressed my forehead to his. My hand followed his movements. When he stroked up, I did as well. When his hand moved away, I let go. I caught his shuddering breaths in a kiss, and told him to work himself to release.

He did so, his hand guiding mine until he spent himself. White shot up, then dribbled over both our hands. His eyes held mine through it all, through every gasp and moan, until it was done.

The Doctor collapsed back onto the chair, as he had risen forward in an arch with his release. I kissed him, and felt him relax against my mouth. “You have a place to sleep here, right?”

He nodded.

“Come then,” I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and began cleaning him up. He flinched, oversensitive to my touch, but let me. I tucked him away as gingerly as I could manage, and buttoned up his falls again. I made sure he was alright and cleaned my own hands before depositing the cloth in a wastebasket. I pulled at his hands until he stood. I knew he was tired, but when he placed his weight upon me, I knew he was poking fun at me. “Jules!”

He chuckled and removed most of his weight from me. “Alright then, darling. Let me show you the way…”


	9. The Scourge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mountain of a man is back.

“I feel like we should…enjoy some of what Vesuvia has to offer,” Jules said.

“Oh?” My chin rested on his chest. My fingers traced red welts that crisscrossed his pale skin, red welts I had put there. I must’ve touched a particularly sensitive site, for he flinched. I pressed my lips to it and passed a small healing spell to it. The welts paled and then healed over to smooth skin. “Such as?”

Jules sat up, and I sat up along with him. Or, at least he tried to sit up. He was still strapped down. I undid his bounds and let him work the stiffness out of his limbs. “Well, there’s a few shopping districts, a few taverns…there’s the coliseum.”

“Coliseum? What is that?”

“You know, I’m not quite sure. I’ve heard the Count talk about the games he puts on there, and gladiators,” Julian said. He scratched his head. “The Count enjoys violent fun. War was fun for him. Perhaps it is some sort of…reenactment of battles? Like a play?”

“I am not sure I’d find that very fun.”

“Hmm.” Julian thought of it, then shrugged. “Very well, perhaps there’s something down in your neck of the woods…”

Jules kept talking, but something inside me beckoned me to think more on the coliseum. An energy was there, within the word, a desperate and…sorrowful energy. A familiar one, but not one I readily recognized. Asra? No. It wasn’t Asra. Asra would not return to the city just to spectate on a violent sport. He was never a fan of violence anyway.

“Jules…”

“…and I’ve heard that while unconventional, the drinks there are….hmm?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” I said, turning to him. I placed my hands flat against the planes of his chest, and brought my lips close to his own. He breathed in, and sought a kiss, but stopped short of touching me. “Take me to the games. There’s something there I need to see.”

“You…you do?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Very…very well, then.” He swallowed, then smiled. His hand came up to touch a curl that had come to dangle in front of my face. Fingers came to trace my jaw, and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “It’s a date.”

 

…

 

The ‘date’ turned into us heading towards a very crowded coliseum in the other side of town. All these people pressed into one small space made me feel uneasy, and I clasped my hand in Jules’s own. He put a hand about my shoulders and held me close, and I felt safer, even though when I looked up at him, I saw him grinning. He found excitement here, where I found apprehension.

He led us through the gates, where he received free entry for working for the Count. We found our seats, which were some of the best in the house, just below the Count’s own. The Count himself entered the coliseum after everyone else had been seated. He wore a suit of gold and red, with a furred cloak about his shoulders. His golden hand waved to the crowd before he spared a nod towards the Doctor.

“It seems your boss holds much respect for you,” I said to him.

“Does it?”

I blinked, but Jules said nothing more. The Count took his seat, so everyone else did so as well. We turned our eyes to the center of the ring, which was paved in dirt and gravel. Fighters entered the room though a side door, and set to matches with each other that, while violent, caused no lasting damage to anyone. I realized that these matches were to get the crowd riled up. Fighters were carried out when knocked unconscious or seriously winded. Even so, I disliked the sport immediately.

I looked to Jules. He watched the rounds of fighting with a broad smile and raised brows. “You enjoy this!”

“What?” Jules sat back in his seat. “No, of course not. I am just…trying to understand how they are able to punch each other and make it look so real!”

“It is because it is real, Jules!”

“No! They’re obviously pulling their strikes! They couldn’t possibly be hurting each other on…” He paused as a warrior slammed his fist into the face of another. The other warrior spun in place and fell face first into the ground. The crowd went wild. “Purpose?”

I crossed my arms, and the Doctor had good mind to look sheepish.

We returned our attentions to the games below. They grew in intensity, and more and more people were being carried out of the ring bruised and bloodied. I winced when a weapon came down upon someone’s leg, and the warrior howled in pain. His cries were nearly drowned out by the roaring crowd.

“Yes!”

I looked up to where the cheer had come from. The Count clenched his golden fist in the air, and sat forward with relish as he viewed the matches. Devilish glee gleamed in his eyes, and his grin was so wide it threatened to curl up unnaturally, exposing his canine teeth.

“You were right about his tastes in entertainment,” I said. Jules looked up to the Count as well.

“Ah, yes. He was most reluctant to leave the war. He had this place refurbished and the games reinstated as soon as he returned, despite his wife’s distaste for the sport.”

“She and I are of the same mind.”

“We can leave, if you’d like. I…do not enjoy this. At least, now knowing that it isn’t some sort of play. I think there may be a playhouse within the city, actually. We could probably catch a comedy or something at a discount seeing as half the city is here…”

“No.” I placed my hand in his. He easily curled his long fingers about my own. “I need to see this. There’s…something here. Someone…calling for help. “

“Is this one of those magical things you always talk of?”

“Perhaps.” I worried my lip. “If…nothing happens, we can go.”

“Alright.” Jules interlaced his fingers through my own. “But the instant it becomes too much…we can leave and perhaps…look for whatever it is you need to find some other way.”

I smiled.

The next bout of fighting began, and this time the warriors dodged the weapons in earnest. I saw that these were not the blunt weapons used by the previous fighters, but real sharp swords and real heavy maces. The weapons slammed into shields, embedding into them or shredding them to splinters. I flinched with each connected strike.

A morning star slammed into the head of a warrior, causing red to splurt from his eyes and ears. The warrior’s head slammed to the ground with a sickening crunch, and his body convulsed before going still.

“Okay, I’m ready to go.” I meant to speak it, but instead, my voice came out in a choked hiss.

“I agree with you.” Jules shifted to get up, but the Count beat him to it. Lucio stood and held out his hands. The crowd went silent with his unbidden command, and the warriors stopped fighting. Everyone waited, all eyes on the Count. This seemed to please him even more, and it almost was as if he… _basked_ in it.

He finally lowered his hands and addressed the crowd. “I am sure I speak for everyone when I say these games could use some more excitement?”

The crowd rose to their feet and began screaming their cheers. The sound was almost bloodthirsty, curling upon the edge of hysterical. My hand gripped Jules’s more, as this was _not_ the Vesuvia I had come to love _._ These people certainly were not the wonderful neighbors I had come to know. _Was this what Asra had warned me about? Not to stay and die for these people?_

The Count said something, but it was lost in the noise. The warriors below seemed to know what he said, however, and all pressed away from the door within the ring. It opened even as the crowd continued their screams. The door was flung open, and a huge, hulking figure stepped out, wrapped in a hooded cloak. One hand gripped a terrifying sword, and armor was strapped to his form here and there. Long black hair hung out from under the hood, which hid the warrior’s face.

 _There_. There it was. The energy that had been crying out to me, masked in the words of the coliseum. But this creature…surely _he_ was not one to ask for help. He strode into the center of the arena and waited. Scars marred the natural lines of his muscles, casting pale knots and twists into his skin. Despite his scarred appearance, the rest of him looked rather well kept, neverminding the armor and wrappings. His clothing was clean. His boots held a matte polish. His hair was washed.

He lowered his hood, revealing clear green eyes and cleanshaven cheeks.

“Muriel?” I stood. The rest of the crowd was still going quite insane, so there was no way anyone could have heard me. He turned his eyes towards me, however, and for a moment I dared to believe that he _had_ heard me. But no, he was staring at the Count, who had since retaken his seat. I looked to Lucio; he appeared smug, as if his normal countenance could look any more smug than it naturally did. I returned my gaze to Muriel. He’d turned to the other warriors, but did not move.

“Well, he’s a huge fellow,” Jules said, once the crowd had died down somewhat. I took my seat again, and practically laced my arm and fingers around Jules’s. “What’s wrong? He can’t harm you from here, darling.”

“I know him,” I said.

“You do?” Jules looked over at Muriel. Muriel was slowly circling the other warriors. “A friend of yours? Must be a delightful conversationalist.”

I gave Jules my elbow and a stern glare. “Quit it. We’ve…I’ve been looking for him. He just…disappeared, years ago. We…” I shook my head. “I thought maybe he had left Vesuvia. He’d been trying to hide from the Count. And…now I know why…” I turned from Jules’s rightfully admonished gaze to look upon Muriel. “Something is wrong.”

“How so?”

“The Muriel I know is…kind, and gentle. He wouldn’t hurt a soul…unless that soul hurt his friends first. I…that’s it! Perhaps he is doing this…to protect us!”

“From who? The Count? What does the Count want with you?”

I frowned and shook my head. “Nevermind. As…I mean, I was told…”

“Asra.”

“I…what?”

“Asra. That’s his name, isn’t it?” Jules gave a wan smile. “It’s alright if you say his name, darling. I’m not offended. I kind of figured, anyway. Its written all over those boxes tucked in the corner of your room.” His smile softened. “I know you had a hard time of it. But perhaps…trying to pretend he never existed isn’t the right way to go about it?” He motioned to Muriel, who had somehow managed to sequester one warrior away from the others. The warrior looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than squaring off against a man nearly double his size. “Especially when remnants keep popping up as reminders.”

I bit my lip, but Jules was right. Muriel needed my help. _Our_ help. “Asra was trying to protect Muriel from the Count. He never told me why…Asra enjoyed his secrets.” I muttered it as I glowered. “Now I can see just what he meant. But how could he force Muriel to do this? Last I saw him, he was excited over a batch of baby chicks Asra had gifted him. Not…out for blood…”

Muriel hefted the heavy looking sword up, and took a mighty swing at the other man. The other warrior, to his credit, wasn’t horrible with the sword. He blocked, dodged, and managed to get his own strikes in when he could, but Muriel was obviously too powerful. Each swing of Muriel’s hacked away at the other warrior’s strength, costing him ground. The other warrior ran to try to get away, put more distance between them, but Muriel was quicker.

It was all over for the other when Muriel brought down his sword and rendered the warrior’s sword into two pieces. The warrior stared at it dumbly for a second, but giving up that time was his mistake. The point of Muriel’s sword burst from his back, along with a sickening spray of blood.

I felt I would vomit.

I turned away and practically buried my face into Jules’s coat, which he often wore about his shoulders like it was a cape. “Perhaps we should get out of here,” Jules said softly. “At least…”

I shook my head. I needed to get _Muriel_ out of here. I looked about, making a point _not_ to look at Muriel or what he was doing. I tried to ignore the screams and gurgles from below, and the cheers of the crowd. Aside from the door out of the arena, there only seemed to be one other exit, and that was the stairs that led through the stands, nearly to Lucio’s seat.

I watched as assistants ran in to retrieve bodies now and again, and dragged them through the door. Guards stood at the entryway to the stairs. More were just inside the door, that I could see. I looked about, and knew, _knew_ , there was another way in. I sent off a silent Find-My-Way spell, and the energies flitted about the place. They converged over every exit, with several resting at the very center of the arena. “There must be a trap door there,” I whispered.

“What are you planning to do?”

“I have to get him out of here, somehow.”

“Hani…”

I looked to Jules. “I have to try!”

“If you get caught, Lucio will have you hanged. Or worse,” Jules frowned. “Perhaps if you talk to him…”

“Talk to him?” I motioned to the Count. He was sitting with his hands clasped under his chin in relish. Every time a warrior was injured, his face expressed joy. One would think someone had just given him a gift. “You know him, Jules. Why don’t _you_ talk to him?”

Jules frowned. “Hani…just don’t do anything rash.”

“He must truly scare you if you, of all people, give me words of caution.”

The Doctor had the good sense to look embarrassed.

I returned my attentions to the arena. Muriel stood there now, alone, surrounded by splashes and puddles of blood in the gravel. Blood bathed him nearly head to toe, but he waited, almost patiently. Attendants rushed in to pick up the pieces of the last body.

The crowd was a mix of boos and cheers.

Lucio stood and held up a hand. The crowd quieted, but not before someone shouted. “The Scourge always wins!”

“We grow bored of the Scourge!”

The crowd once again began to cheer, but this time it was a cheer of unrest. Lucio took it in, then raised both hands. The crowd reluctantly quieted. “I hear you, Vesuvia. I agree. The games grow predictable, as our reigning champions seems to know no match. There used to be one who could take him on, back when we could test the powers of might against the powers of magic. But it seems our magician is…no longer in the sporting mood.”

 _Magician_? I swallowed, hard. Could he mean Asra? I was formulating a theory. Muriel was doing this…to protect Asra. And Asra had been trying to protect Muriel. Did Muriel not know that Asra was gone? For good? I looked down at Muriel. His eyes were cast down, staring at a puddle of blood that was soaking into the gravel. It spread, and almost touched the toes of his boots. He took a step back.

“Perhaps someone should teach the Scourge how to be more…entertaining?” Lucio reached up to the clasp that held his cape in place. It fell back upon his chair. An attendant raced up and placed a sword in his hand. The crowd began a low murmur. “Perhaps…someone should put the Scourge _in his place_.”

My eyes widened.

Lucio began descending the steps, and the crowd was once again in an uproar. Guards parted to let him into the arena, and he gracefully sidestepped the blood and scattered weapons. Muriel looked at him. He watched his every move, and his hand tightened on his sword. I suddenly got the feeling that there was nothing more that Muriel wanted to do aside from burying that sword into the Count, one way or another.

“Is this…normal for him?” I asked.

“Unfortunately,” Jules deadpanned. “He quite enjoys a fight. He enjoys injury almost as much as he loves a fight. That arm? He was proud to lose it. Don’t ask him about it, though.” Jules sighed. “You’ll be there for days listening to the story.”

“What…what happened?”

“According to him, he was in a great battle and it was lopped off by some warrior, but the truth is, he got a cut, it got infected, and if I hadn’t removed the thing, he’d be dead now.” Jules frowned. “Maybe I should have let it fester.”

The Count based in the cheers of the crowd. For a moment it was as if he’d forgotten Muriel entirely. Muriel looked about, his energy nervous. I got the sense that something was not right with the fight that was to commence. Where Muriel was surefooted just moments before, now he seemed more than reluctant to engage.

Lucio turned to him and unsheathed his sword. It was a gleaming gold and silver affair, beautiful, but not as strong looking as Muriel’s weapon. He cast aside the sheath and took his stance. “Well, Scourge?” He said something else, something only Muriel could hear. I frowned and sent a spell forward. It hovered between the two, and caught their words.

“Give us a good show, and perhaps I won’t send my soldiers into the desert _this night_.”

The desert. Asra’s home. I knew Asra wasn’t there. I’d gone there a few times, looking for him. But it didn’t seem that Muriel knew, for he clenched his hand about his sword once more, and steeled himself. And then, he attacked.

Where the other warriors had failed in matching Muriel’s strength and skill, Lucio did not. He was excellent behind the sword, and knew just how to meet each one of Muriel’s strikes. Blows were deflected. Swipes were dodged. The Count made it seem effortless, and even gave good of his own. Muriel seemed to struggle under the assault. Their swords slid together, and Lucio pressed upon him, their faces close. The Count grinned that wily grin of his.

Muriel took a step back.

“That…I do not believe,” Jules murmured. “Is your friend throwing the fight?”

I looked Muriel over. Muscles strained, and sweat beaded on his skin. I could hear how he grunted and struggled through the spell. “No. He’s giving it all he has.”

Muriel pushed the Count off and put some distance between them. The Count only shifted from foot to foot before charging him, and then, the fight was truly _on._

The Count moved with a speed and strength I hadn’t ever seen in anyone. He seemed to enjoy the sound of the weapons meeting again and again, and it was all Muriel could do to block each strike. Lucio pushed him back, forcing him to reel and take steps, again and again. He once locked their swords and then delivered a fist right into Muriel’s face. Muriel staggered back, and blood flowed from a cut on his nose, the structure broken.

Lucio flexed the fingers of his armored hand. Blood stained the knuckles. He held his arms out wide, as if to say, _is this all you’ve got?_

“He’s going to kill him,” I murmured. I looked about, then acted without thinking. I pushed myself out of our row, and ignored Jules calling for me. I whispered a Nevermind-Me spell and pushed past the guards as I headed for the stairs that led to the arena.

Muriel charged the Count, and the Count met him. It was as if a boulder had launched itself at a mountain, and oddly, Lucio was the mountain. There was a brief fight, and then Lucio was spinning past Muriel. Muriel realized his mistake too late, and Lucio had already embedded his sword through his side.

The crowd exploded in screams and cheers. Guards flooded the arena and the stands, as people began to try to get to the arena itself. I slipped past guards to the arena, along with a throng of people who had somehow made it past all the guards. Attendants and guards surrounded Lucio, who paid Muriel no mind as he collapsed onto the gravel. Lucio laughed, even as he was jostled about in the crowd.

Attendants hefted Muriel to his feet, and I fell in beside them. They paid me no mind, and I was able to get through the little door on the side. It was dark, wherever we were, and torches did little to shed light on the wooden structures and straw-strewn floors. I noticed cell doors lining the walls. Chains. Manacles.

Muriel was hefted onto a table. Lucio’s sword had been taken away, and Muriel was bleeding freely onto the table. It puddled and then dripped to the floor. I saw the fresh blood was settling atop old, dried blood.

Attendants left him, and someone called for a doctor. I rushed to Muriel’s side, and touched his arm gently.

He flinched, then rolled his eyes to meet mine. He blinked. “Hani? What…?”

“Don’t move. I’m going to run a healing spell…”

“No. Get out,” He tried to push me away, but only ended up seizing in pain.

“Shut up, and let me help you,” I charged the spell between my fingers, then pressed my hands into his bloodied wound. Healing spells always took the most out of me. That didn’t mean I couldn’t do them. Asra said that I always relied on energies to do the work, instead of relying on the body to find its way. It was his way of saying I was impatient. But either way, I felt the flesh under my hands begin to right itself. Muscle fibers reconnected. A punctured organ, sealing once more. Offending humors returning to where they belonged.

I gasped. Muriel had stopped writhing in pain, and now watched me intently. I did my best to heal him from the inside out, because…

“What the hell is going on here?”

I removed my hands, now slick with blood, but then found a steeling grasp digging into my shoulder and flinging me to the side. I skid across the straw on the floor until my back hit a stone wall. I grunted.

“Leave him be!” Muriel growled. “He is not part of this!”

“Shut him up.”

Guards and attendants alike rushed to Muriel. I was able to open my eyes slightly to see him manacled and then dragged away. It took nearly twenty men to accomplish this. I caught sight of his wound before he disappeared around the corner. Still bloody, but he would survive.

I rested my head against the wall and looked up at the Count, who regarded me with his hands on his hips. Despite just fighting Muriel, he seemed polished and put together. There was a hair hanging in his face, sure. Blood upon his knuckles, and a spray of it marring his suit. But…otherwise, no one would know what he’d just done.

The Count strode over to me and then dropped into a crouch. He looked me over, then rested his eyes on my hands. They were slick with Muriel’s blood. He pursed his lips, then looked me in the eye. “Friend of yours?”

“You could say that.”

“I don’t like when people mess with my plans,” Lucio said. “But I suppose I should thank you. If it weren’t for you, the Scourge…”

“Muriel.”

“…Would be dead. Sometimes I get a little overzealous and…forget that people have adverse reactions to being stabbed. So, bravo. But, since you’re here, and you seem to be well acquainted with the Scourge…”

“His name is _Muriel_.”

“Perhaps you know of the whereabouts of _his_ friend. You know the one. The little dandelion-headed one, with the flashy magic tricks?”

Something must’ve flashed in my eyes. I looked away at the sign of recognition in his, and I decided to just be honest. “I haven’t seen Asra in years. He left as soon as the plague started.”

The Count gave a grunt of disapproval and stood. “How disappointing.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I am not arguing. I’ve had this whole city scoured looking for the witch.”

“He’s not a witch.”

“You don’t know him very well then, do you?” The Count smirked down at me. “He’s a strange one. Full of secrets, full of lies. I’ve known him far longer than you, little magician. If you think anything of him, just know your thoughts are very wrong.” He breathed in. “And now, there’s you. Its obvious you can wield magic, but its obvious you aren’t that clever, as you got found out. I saw through that little Nevermind-Me business. But what is your stake with the Scourge? Is he your friend? Lover?” He crossed his arms. “Or are you some spy from what? Pakra? The west? Come to take my favorite in hopes of…what? Learning some secrets? Turning him against me?”

“Muriel doesn’t deserve this. I know you’re keeping him against his will. Whatever you have on him…just let him go.”

The Count raised a brow, then laughed. “You aren’t very clever at all, are you? Just…right out with the truth, then? Fine. Muriel owes me a _great debt_. And until it has been paid in full, he remains here, providing quality entertainment to the good people of Vesuvia.”

“He doesn’t want this.”

“How do you know? Have you asked him? He’s quite good at it, you know. Skull crushing, maiming. For a man who wants no part of it, as you claim, he’s mastered the art of death and destruction. Sometimes he doesn’t even have to try. Bodies come apart like fowl cooked to perfection. The meat just…slides off the bones…”

I grimaced and looked away. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? You don’t have a good understanding of the men you call friends. Don’t think I didn’t notice you sitting with the good Doctor. The stories I could tell you about that one…”

I shook my head to it. The Count was trying to get under my skin, although, I didn’t know why. “If you’re going to arrest me, just arrest me.”

“Why? I’m having fun. Although, I suppose I should. If not for trying to steal my champion away, and if not for being where you don’t belong, then perhaps for being the Doctor’s distraction. It is almost as if he’s forgotten there’s a _plague_ going on.” He snapped his fingers, and two guards came in to grab me up. I was hefted to my feet, and they meant to take me away, but the Count stopped them. He looked me over and smirked. “We’ll find use for you yet, little magician. Everyone works off their punishment somehow.”

I managed a glower as I was taken away.

  
The Count only laughed, bemused.


	10. You're Hired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani comes under the Count's employ.

I woke the next morning with my head against stone, and a stiffness in my body from laying on the ground. I groaned and slowly sat up. My surroundings slowly came to me. Stone walls. A wooden bench, and a bucket for a toilet that someone had thankfully changed out during the night. Bars making up one wall. A bone-chilling coldness that one could not shiver their way out of.

An iron manacle about my wrist, which was attached to a chain. I followed the chain with my eyes to where it was bolted to the wall.

Oh, yes. My date with Jules had ended with me getting arrested. I didn’t know if he’d be proud of me or not. I got to my feet and sat on the bench, and tried to clear my head.

“It was stupid of you to come for me.”

 _Muriel_.

I looked out, through the bars, to the cell opposite of mine. Muriel sat inside, his huge form making the cell look impossibly tiny. The collar about his neck was chained to the wall. His armor was gone, as was his cloak. I could see the wound on his side was bandaged and in need of changing. I got up and went to the bars. My hand was pulled back by the chains, but I did my best to be as close to him as possible. “Muriel! What happened?”

“The Count was upset. He thought I asked you down here somehow.” Muriel shrugged. “Its nothing new.” He meant the cell. Apparently, this was normal for him.

I looked about. The hallway between the cells ended in darkness on either side. There was only one torch to light the space between us. I couldn’t see any guards, but I wasn’t going to be stupid and assume they weren’t there. “I meant, how did you…what…since when…”

Muriel shifted uncomfortably. “Lucio found me. What else is there to say? He threatened to hurt Asra if I didn’t do as he said. Asra has…already been through enough.” Muriel’s eyes widened. “Asra doesn’t know I’m here, does he?”

He asked it not as if he was worried that his friend was not looking for him. He asked it as if Asra finding him was the last thing he wanted. “No. Asra doesn’t know.”

The large man slumped in a sort of relief.

“Asra is gone.”

Muriel went rigid again. “What do you mean, gone?”

“He’s gone. He _left_. As soon as the plague started. He just…” I shrugged. “Left.”

“That doesn’t seem like him.”

“What are you saying? That is exactly like Asra,” I scowled. “Aside from sleeping and reading cards, _leaving_ is one of the few things he’s good at.” I shoved away from the bars and sat back down with a huff. I didn't believe what I said, not really. It just...came out.

Muriel was silent for a good while. “He must have his reasons. Sometimes…he forgets how long he is gone.”

“Its been over a year, Muriel,” I motioned with my hand in surrender. “If he was going to come back, he would have. Or write. Or…something. But nothing. He left me. He left _you_. He isn’t coming back this time.” I sighed. “But its okay. I’m fine with it. I’ve moved on. Its okay.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

I leveled him with a glare. He only shrugged. I turned my gaze to the floor. “What’s going to happen now?”

“To me? You saw the most of it.”

“He won’t punish you? For…what I did?”

“Every day is a punishment.”

I looked to him. For being so huge, he did manage to look so vulnerable. His shoulders slumped forward, and his hands curled about himself. His black hair dripped into his face. I wanted to go over and wrap him in an embrace, but of course, I could not. “I’m sorry, Muriel. I could have been looking for you all this time, but I figured you just…left Vesuvia. I did look, a little. I didn’t think to look here.” I looked about. “Wherever here is.”

“We’re in the second dungeons, under the coliseum. This is where the Count keeps those he wishes to punish the harshest.”

“Oh, joy.”

“Usually the arrested become gladiators.” He moved. Chains dragged on the floor. “And I am his executioner.” He winced. “I don’t…like what I have to do, Hani.”

“I know, Muriel. I’ll get you out of here. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you cannot keep.” He looked to me, one green eye glaring through the curtain of his hair. “Asra tried once, and we were fugitives. Only the Count leaving for war gave us rest. Lucio always finds me. Always.” He looked away. “You should have just let me die.”

I blinked. “No…I couldn’t, Muriel…”A door opened somewhere in the distance, the hinges creaking. We could hear armored guards moving down the hall, and then, they were standing between our cells. They turned to mine, and I waited as they unlocked it. One undid the manacle about my wrist, only to replace it with a set of binders that locked my arms behind me. I looked to Muriel as they dragged me away, but he did not look up.

I was shoved into a barred carriage. I looked through the windows, trying to see where we were, but Muriel was right. We were just outside the coliseum. The carriage took us through Vesuvia, and I realized that we were heading to the palace. I sat back and looked to the guards. They ignored me up until we pulled into the palace courtyard. I was unloaded and taken in, and marched through polished hallways and foyers to what looked to be a grand receiving area.

The Count sat on a chair at the head of the room. Windows lined each wall, casting yellow light upon the rich surfaces. It caught his light hair, turning it pale, and glimmered against his golden arm. He wore a suit of pale blue now, but it didn’t matter what he wore. He looked handsome in everything.

To his side sat the Countess, prim and proper and stiff in her seat. She wore a gown of many layers of pale pink, with darker magentas and purples embroidered in Pakran designs about the neckline and waist. She was a vision, with her purple hair done up in an intricate coif. A gold circlet dangled a pearl upon her brow, and matching pearls dotted her ears. Her eyes looked to me as I was brought in and left alone before them. The guards retreated to the sides of the room.

“Finally,” the Count said boredly. “Now, where is…”

A door off to the side opened, and in entered Jules, flanked by two guards. He recognized me right away, and his eyes went wide. He was wearing his uniform, and looked as if he’d had as terrible a night as I had, with his hair a muss and light stubble on his cheeks. The guards shoved him forward when he hesitated, and he cleared his throat to come stand before the Count.

“I won’t waste time asking if you two know each other,” the Count said, motioning to me with his gold hand. “The guards have accounts of this miscreant not only on the palace grounds but in the library, with you. And your quarters.”

“My private affairs…”

“Don’t matter to me, yes, unless it interferes with the task which you have been hired to undertake, Doctor.” The Count’s eyes turned to Jules’s. The Doctor did good not to appear in any other state than stoic and ready to receive orders. “The plague is overtaking the quarantined zones, and there are rumors of it penetrating further into the city. Our history has allowed me to ignore your fraternizations, Doctor, but I can ignore it no more.” The Count shifted in his seat, then stood. He went over to Jules and, with his hands clasped behind his back, glared up into the Doctor’s eyes. “It is my job to protect this city, Doctor. And if my _best doctor_ cannot do as he promised, then what good is that doctor?”

I looked between the two, then to the Countess. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere but here. Her eyes met mine briefly before she looked away, wringing her slender hands.

Jules said nothing.

“And then, I come to find out your distraction of the month is doing their best to undermine the games.” The Count motioned to me, even as I mouthed _of the month?_ Jules's eyes widened. The Count turned away from Jules and strode over to me. “The games may seem barbaric to some, but they serve a purpose. They allow the good citizens of Vesuvia to forget their troubles for a brief moment. They can’t be focused on _impeding death_ when they are cheering for their favorite warrior, now, can they?” The Count looked to Jules, then to me.

His golden hand grabbed at my chin with a vice-like grip. I grunted, and tried to not flinch. The Countess reached out with a hand, then brought her fingers to her face. She looked to Jules, then to me. “The Scourge provides that freedom for Vesuvia, little magician, and I will not have you disrupt that for me. Do you understand?”

I said nothing. My eyes met the Count’s. I would not be bullied, not by him.

“I should just send you back where you came from, or worse, just have you hanged.” The Count scowled. “But both would be too lenient of a sentence for you. Both of you. So. I have devised a better solution to our problem.” He let me go and looked between the Doctor and I. “I had hoped I would find my magician friend to assist in discovering a cure for the plague, but it seems he has skipped town. So, Hani, was it? You will be assisting the Doctor from now on.”

I blinked, then looked to the Doctor. Jules didn't seem to like this 'solution'. “Please, sir. Perhaps there is…something else Hani can assist with…”

“You’ve been trying to find a cure for over a year, Doctor, with no results. I know you believe strictly in the scientific, but I do not share the same views as you regarding magic. And you did recently state that you needed help in your clinic. So.” The Count motioned to me. “Here is your help. Now, be grateful. I can always…change my mind.”

A guard came up behind me and undid the binds on my arms. My hands fell to my sides. I wanted to help. That’s why I stayed. But…this did not feel right. Something…warned me against this. Something…was wrong. Something was…

“Come along, Noddy.” The Count was leaving. The Countess looked to us, then got up and hurried after the Count. The guards slowly filed from the room, leaving the doctor and I alone.

He rushed to me and took up my hands, but my mind was somewhere else. He was speaking, but I didn’t hear him. His thumbs were rubbing over the red marks in my wrists, and then he noticed that I wasn’t looking at him but _through_ him. He grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a shake.

“Hani!”

I blinked and met his gaze. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

I looked about, as if realizing where I was for the first time. “No. I want to go home.”

He shut his eyes and breathed out. “You can’t go home. They’re setting up quarters for you here. I asked them to place them next to mine…but…they’ll be moving you to the clinic soon. Hani…if you were going to get out of Vesuvia…” He leaned closer. “Now’s the time to go.”

“What?”

“Just, go, Hani. You don’t want to work in the clinic. Trust me.”

“No, Jules…” I wrenched my hands away from his and stepped back. “And then, what will happen to you? The Count was ready to punish you just for knowing me!”

“I can handle whatever he dishes out, Hani, but you…”

“I want this." I frowned and crossed my arms.

Jules’s frown took a serious note, and his hands were on my shoulders again. “Hani, I mean it! I am not…playing! People are dying there! You could barely handle one man killing a few others. The clinic is…full of death! Suffering! One moment a person is fine, and the next they are vomiting their organs and…”

I pushed him away. “I’ll do what I have to do. I stayed in Vesuvia to _help_. And I know I can. I gave up…everything to stay here, Jules! I am not backing down now. Now…just show me to my damn room so I can take a bath.” I slumped. I was tired, and I didn’t want to argue, even if I agreed with him, somewhat. I wanted nothing more than to run, but if I did, I’d be leaving Jules and Muriel to the mercy of the Count. And Jules, well, he could do as he wished. But I was not going to let Muriel stay here.

I wasn’t going to abandon him like Asra did.

Jules gave a sigh and motioned for me to follow him. He led me to a guest room which had to be the most lavishly decorated place I’d ever called mine. A bath was adjoined to it, and he helped me draw some steaming water from pipes that delivered it right into the tub. Mine worked with a pump, and required hot stones to create the steam. “Yes, quite the marvel,” Jules chuckled. He unstoppered a vial of bath salts and dumped them in. “Well. In you go.”

I began to disrobe. It was difficult, as I was still so stiff from sleeping on the cold ground. Jules helped me, and bade me to climb into the tub. He peeled off his gloves, then his jacket, and set to lathering soap in a washcloth for me. I went to take it from him, but he held it away. “What are you playing at?”

“I…just wish to help you, that is all.”

“It would help me if you got a good night’s rest.” I lightly touched the skin under his eyes. It was dark, denoting a horrible sleep. I ran my finger through the stubble on his cheeks. “I couldn’t leave, Jules. Then you’d go right back to being a complete mess.”

“Yes, well, this mess has survived the worst that Lucio could ever throw at me.” He grabbed up my arm and began rubbing the soap into my skin. “I’ve seen battles, and I’ve seen…well…horrors you could only ever imagine. What you saw in the arena is just…a mockery of that. I wouldn’t wish anyone to see those horrors.”

“I have to help, Jules.”

“People are dying, Hani, and I don’t know how to stop it,” he admitted. His hand stilled, the rag against my chest. “I could stop a man from bleeding out, and keep infection from destroying someone completely. I can retrieve shrapnel and heal an arrow wound, perform surgery. Stitches, tourniquets, even…pluck out festering eyeballs.” I grimaced. “But I cannot stop this. It is beyond my abilities. And I just…”

“Just what?” I touched his chin with a soapy hand when he didn’t finish his thought.

“I don’t want you to get caught up in something you can just walk away from.”

“Jules…”

“And…you are not my distraction of the month.” Jules set his jaw and met my eyes. “Lucio doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Did you two…?”

“No!” Jules’s cheeks flushed. “Maybe. Briefly.” He looked away. “Before I knew what he was really like.”

I chuckled. “Is he as horrible in bed as I’d like to think he is?”

Jules bit his lip. “You know I enjoy…pain, Hani.”

“Yes.”

“As does he. But…when you hurt me, you do it because I like it. And you know when to stop.”

“And he doesn’t?”

“He does. But he does it anyway.” Jules closed his eyes and shook his head. “He is cruel. Sometimes I fear for his wife, but she seems utterly smitten by him. You know what they say…there has to be someone out there for everybody.”

I frowned. I didn’t want to speculate on the Countess and her…love for the Count. She seemed reluctant to do anything at all when in her husband’s presence. I plucked the rag out of Jules’s hand and began to scrub myself, as if I could scrub away the unpleasantness of the past day. “Well. I’ve gotten myself into this mess, Doctor. So…I might as well begin to learn the trade.” I smirked over at him. “How long does it take to learn medicine? A day? A week?”

He scoffed and said something in his first language. He snatched the rag from me and used it to flick water up into my face. I laughed and tussled with him for the rag, which only resulted in him getting his shirt wet, and me nearly pulling him into the tub with me. I kissed him, deeply, and enjoyed the feel of my tongue within his mouth.

He helped me out of the tub and to dry off. He went to go find a sleepshirt or something, but I waved it off.

“I’ve had a terrible night,” I whined dramatically. I went to the bed and flung myself upon it face down. My wet hair was already beginning to draw up into curls. “I’m just so stiff and just want to relax. If only someone was here who knew the body and all its intricacies, and could…help me relax.”

“If you are referring to me, I can…” He blinked then grinned. “Oh. Ohh, I see. Well. Yes, I suppose I do know _some_ things about the human body.” He pulled a pillow off the bed and knelt on it, then placed his hands on my waist, his thumbs pressing into my back. I groaned, genuinely, at the sensation.

“Does the doctor know what ails me?” I said. I looked up at him and wriggled a bit under his hands.

“I will after a more thorough examination.” He ran his hands over me, and he made an appreciative noise low in his throat. His hands stilled over my ass, then smoothed down to the curve of my thighs. I started then his fingers dug in there, and tried not to laugh. “Oh, well. The patient is apparently ticklish. I shall note that for future sessions.” His hands traced back up my ass, and I felt a thumb softly trace my crease. “Hani…can I…?”

“Not yet.”

I could imagine him biting his lip and then nodding to himself. His hands left me and returned to my shoulders. I dropped my head down as he worked the muscles of my neck, and as his fingers found places of pain and stiffness between my muscles. I groaned. “You can press harder.”

“You’re so tense,” he murmured. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to a spot between my shoulder blades. “So worried.”

I bit my lip. He returned to working out the tension I was apparently carrying. I relaxed my forehead into my arms, and shut my eyes. He _did_ know how to do this rather well. A pity I hadn’t known about it sooner.

He left me briefly to search for something in the baths, and returned with scented oil that he slicked his hands with. He rubbed it into my skin, and used it to better slide his fingers against the muscles of my back. I couldn’t help the moans that he wrought from me as he did so. Some parts were particularly painful, and he worked those spots relentlessly until the tension gave.

He worked his way down, ignoring my ass completely, before working my thighs. Long fingers ran up and down the length of my leg, and found spots to be kneaded that I hadn’t considered. By this time, I was pliant against the bedcovers, but my cock was anything but. I canted my hips a bit, trying to find friction. He must’ve noticed, for his hands stilled.

“Hani…”

“Please…” I breathed. I cleared my throat. “You can touch me, Jules.”

“However I like?”

“I think you know what I want.” I lifted my hips into his hovering palm for emphasis. He lowered his hand to me and let his touch delicately explore me before his other hand joined, and he began his massage in earnest. His thumbs moved along the lines of my muscle, or so I assumed. It seemed the touches were as much for his pleasure as it was mine.

He paused, and I was about to ask him why he stopped when he pulled himself up onto the bed. Up onto me, actually. He straddled my thighs, but was gentle with the weight he placed on me. He slicked his hands with more oil, then resumed his ministrations. His touches were teasing, now, as he worked about my sensitive flesh but did not touch it directly. I whined a little. I enjoyed a good tease now and again, but I did not relish it like he did.

He took my meaning and pressed a finger against my entrance, then lightly traced it with his fingertip. He smoothed oil against me, slickening me, before sliding one finger inside. I bit my lip and pressed my face into the bedcovers. He worked pleasure into me for a bit, but then removed his finger to tease me again. A thumb was flat against my entrance, rubbing in circles, then straight up and threatening to push into me.

He returned his finger once more when I threatened to buck up into his hand. He thrust in and out, softly and slowly, up until the knuckle of his hand, where his other fingers prevented him from sinking in further. He adjusted his ploy, adding another finger to it, and returned to his ministrations.

The Doctor knew just where to get me, and I moaned anew with each stroke against the spot. His massage had rendered me nearly a puddle beneath his hands, and now I was content to just let him work me over this way. I did enjoy his cock inside me, but I wanted him to focus on me. I wanted him to realize that I was not going anywhere, and I knew that this was giving him as much pleasure as he was giving to me.

Pressure built up in my groin, and I alternated between trying to push my hardness into the bed and pressing my ass into his hand. He steadied me with a hand upon the small of my back and went at it with new gusto. I could only moan against the bedcovers, enjoying a bit of a thrill in being pinned under him, where usually it was he who enjoyed this position.

“Tell me when, darling,” he murmured.

“What…” I moaned. “Do you like…this?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me…”

“Mmmm,” Jules breathed in. “I like that you feel so good…and that I make you feel this way…” The hand on the small of my back rubbed a pattern into my skin. “Am I doing well?”

“Perfect,” I breathed it, ending it with a moan. “So good, Jules…”

He made a sound, more than appreciation. It reminded me of when I had him tied up, or pinned, and he took what I gave him, and I praised him for following my direction. He wanted to do well, and to please me.

“Go a little faster,” I said. “And…ahhh…right there!” He did as told. I writhed under his touch, under his hips and erection against my legs. I’d have to take care of that. I thought of what I’d do to him. Perhaps, I’d make him work for it. Perhaps, I’d make him take care of himself, like in the library…or maybe…maybe I’d do it. Maybe I’d have him, in my mouth…

I came somewhat unexpectedly, and shouted my release as I pushed onto his fingers. He continued with his hands until I was spent, and gently extricated himself from me, then got off the bed to wait beside it, on his knees. I looked to him as I steadied my breath, then beckoned for him to join me in bed.

He did so, climbing over me so that he was between me and the wall. My hands found his erection easily, and I rubbed at him from over his trousers for a bit before freeing him from the cloth. I wriggled myself down and took him into my mouth. He gasped, his hand hovering over my head for a moment before I guided his fingers to touch me. I swallowed him down, going at him with an intensity that pleased him but made him a mewling mess. He yelped, and tried not to writhe, but I did not let up.

He began to ask me for permission to come, but I ignored him and pressed my fingers to the spot between his balls and backside. He came hard, his voice rasping to nothing in his throat. I swallowed him down and gave him a swat across his backside, my only repercussion for his release coming without my permission. I smiled up at him. He only buried his face in a pillow, his chest heaving for breath.

“I’m going to need another bath,” I groaned.

“Ah, yes, I as well.”

We laughed.


	11. Goodbye Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Countess gets in on some treasonous fun.

Jules was gone when I woke, but there was a note scrawled in his handwriting on the pillow, telling me he had to report to work early, signed with a heart and the letter J. I looked to the window, but it wasn’t even dawn yet. I groaned and sat up…and then there came a knock on the door.

Frowning, I got up and dressed myself, as I had fallen asleep completely naked. I pulled a robe over me and opened the door a bit…to see the Countess standing there.

I blinked, then backed away and let her in. She entered wearing her own nightclothes and robe, her long hair loose upon her back. She looked out into the hall, as if to check that she wasn’t followed, before she shut the door behind herself.

I fiddled with the cuffs of my robe sleeves. “Countess…um…to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Forgive my visit as such a late hour, Hani,” she said. “I had hoped you were awake, after I saw the Doctor leave.” I blushed. “I mean, do not take it the wrong way. The Doctor does work very hard for my husband, and it is good to see him enjoy himself. I heard you were apprehended at the coliseum, and he had taken you there for…a day on the town?”

“Something like that. It didn’t exactly work the way we’d planned, though.”

“Ah, yes. The arrest.” The Countess pushed a bit of hair behind her ear and paced the room. “My husband is…an interesting person, with many tastes and past times I do not share enjoyment with. I knew this when I married him…which was a union designed to align Pakra with the much more powerful Vesuvia. However, the coliseum and the games are…reprehensible, in my opinion.” Her eyes met mine. “I know that if my husband were to lose his champion, the games would still continue. But I know that man is not participating on his own choice. Your friend.”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“How…how would you like a chance to free him?”

I blinked. “I…” I looked about. “Is…this a trick question? If I say yes, will you have me arrested again?”

“No.” The Countess fished in her pocket and revealed a ring of keys pinched between her fingers. “I managed to get a copy from some forgetful guards. I can also have the guard change stalled for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?” I raised a brow. “Getting Muriel out of there is going to take more than a few minutes. He’s…quite a large man. And breaking someone out of dungeons is, I’m sure, a noticeable task.”

“It is the best that I can do.”

I took the keys from her and thought on them. “What if…I could get him out, but not through the doorways?” I frowned and thought of the library. Of the hidden bookcase that revealed the passage down into the palace dungeons. “There’s a type of magic that can create passages between walls and places, even if those two places are not directly connected. I’ve seen a friend of mine do it a few times, but never tried it myself. I can…attempt it. It may take a few days to set it up, however. I will need access to different places in the palace, and the coliseum.”

“Whatever you wish. I can provide you with a uniform of the servants here. It may help you get around unnoticed. Just…stay out of my husband’s wing. He seems to know, somehow, whenever anything there is moved out of place.”

“Very well.”

“But you must obviously act before you are to go to the clinic. My husband talked of having your escorted there to make sure you actually went. Five days.”

“Five days…” I frowned. Could I do this in five days? “Very well. Its worth a shot.”

The Countess smiled softly. “I am glad that your friend has a friend like you.”

“Countess?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you…happy here? With Lucio?”

Her smile waned. “Happiness is not a factor when one does what one can for duty.”

“You have no friends here? No family?”

“No, I can’t say I do.” She jutted her chin out, as if trying to prove to me that she was still strong.

“Well, if this works,” I motioned with the key. “You can count me as a friend. I mean, if we are all under the Count’s thumb, we might as well band together, right?” I offered a smile.

She returned it. “I’d like that.”

She bade me goodnight and left, leaving me to my thoughts. An hour or so later, I had somewhat formulated a plan, and a servant knocked on my door to deliver some clothes for me, from my shop. A uniform was folded between layers of clothes, so I quickly dressed in that and tied my hair up in a knot. I gave myself another Nevermind-Me spell and headed out into the hallways.

I searched the palace for spots where energy converged, and flagged those areas as potential sites for portals with magical markers that only I would sense. I did so until I saw it was near midmorning, and hurried back to my rooms and changed. Servants came in with breakfast not soon after, and paid me no mind. I was then escorted to the library, where Jules had books and parchments waiting to give me a sort of…crash course on the plague.

I repeated the search again the next day, and again engaged in study with Jules. After, however, the Countess took me in a carriage back into town, under the premise that she wanted to see my shop. We headed the opposite direction, however, and found ourselves at the coliseum when night was falling. The guards changed, and the Countess told me I had ten minutes to figure things out.

I ran inside, and immediately to the trapdoor at the center of the arena. I pulled it open, and peered down into darkness. I sent a Find-A-Way spell inside, and it came back with the knowledge of the place. I ran back out, and pressed a few markers to magic sensitive places on walls here and there.

I made it to the carriage right as the guards took their places again. I ducked inside. The Countess raised her brows as the door shut behind me. “Well?”

I held up the ball of energy that was the Find-A-Way spell. “Now we are in business.”

I used the spell, once we returned, to create a map of the space beneath the arena. I could see the cells where Muriel was kept, and the area where he had been taken when he was injured. There was also a huge empty space directly under the arena, which was apparently used for maintenance and for when animals and beasts were brought up through the floor.

I made my notes, and the next day I returned to place the actual portals. I placed a few throughout the palace. I needed to act soon. The next day after that.

When the morning came, I dressed in dark clothing and slipped into the hallway with a Nevermind-Me spell, but didn’t bother with a uniform. I slipped down a few passages, then pressed my hand to a wall. A portal rippled before I passed through it, and found myself within the dining hall on the lower levels. I ran to the far wall and into a portal there, and emerged outside the palace, in the gardens. There was a tree there, a large one. I ran to it, and then through another portal.

I was, then, in the coliseum. At the entrance. My heart pounded and threatened to practically leap out of my mouth with the way my pulse hammered in my head. Sweat beaded on my brow, but I ignored it, as if I were not committing treason in the early morning hours. I ran my hand over a wall. The portal there rippled, and when I slipped through it, I was in the dungeons. I ran down the long hallway, and sent a ball of light to illuminate all the torches. I heard Muriel’s chains drag on the floor as I neared. I fished the key out from my pocket and hurried to unlock the door.

“Hani!” Muriel’s big hands wrapped about the bars. His green eyes looked at me in bewilderment, and he sat back as the door opened. “I don’t understand…”

“I don’t have time to explain, either.” I pulled at his hands. He got up and made to leave…but the chain connected to his collar halted him. I cursed, realizing it was bolded to the wall. I went to it and charged a heat spell. The metal of the chains seemed unaffected by it, but the bolted plate attached to the stone wall grew orange and hot before the bolts melted away and the plate fell to the ground, releasing him.

I pushed the chain into Muriel’s hands and then led him out of the cell. I locked it behind him and put the key in my pocket, and then let him down the hall to another portal. I pushed him through and followed. We were outside the coliseum, now. “Run! Quickly!”

We ran through the streets until we reached the edge of the city, and raced into a forest. We caught our breath when we felt we were far enough away. Muriel turned to me, and it was obvious he still did not understand what was happening. “You’re free,” I heaved. “Go. Get out of Vesuvia.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You aren’t going back, are you?”

I thought on it. If I did leave, I could be free of this place, finally. I needn’t worry about the plague. I could…return home. To mother. To where things made sense. I shook my head. “I can’t leave. I can’t leave Jules. He is counting on me. And if I don’t return these to the Countess…” I lifted the keys from my pocket. “She could be in trouble too.”

Muriel frowned. “Hani…”

“Go, Muriel. You deserve to be free, now. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he turned and ran until he was a shadow amongst shadows. I looked away, then headed back into the city. I returned much the way I had come, and pulled into my room just as a servant came to bring me breakfast.

The Countess came by later that day to bid me goodbye. She came bearing a plate covered in a cloche. Prakan cake, she said. She lifted the cloche to reveal an empty place. I placed the keys on it, and she covered the plate once more with a smile on her lips.

“Goodbye, friend,” she said.

“Goodbye, friend.”


	12. Skitterings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani isn't the brightest bulb in the box when it comes to self preservation.

“Jules?”

“Hmm?”

The doctor didn’t look up from his work. We were in the dungeon-turned-research facility beneath the palace, and there were new bodies to examine. Every once in a while, I selected a few from the clinic to take to the facility, where Jules worked most days. With me in the clinic, the Count forced Jules to spend more time here, under the watchful eye of Valdemar. I turned my gaze to the person in question, who stood off to the side. Their eyes were on me, as if they knew I was thinking if them. I couldn’t help the shudder that overtook my body. They were beyond creepy.

I returned my eyes to the Doctor. He had one of the bodies cut open, and was noting the disintegration of the organs. We now knew there was a pattern to the destruction, and it started with the liver. Then, the lungs, then other minor organs, before moving to the stomach and intestines. The amount of time of the destructive pattern moving on from organ to organ was miniscule. But the last bit was the red staining the sclera of the eyes. This meant that the veins and arteries were to go next. These never were completely destroyed, however, as the other organs’ failures created death before that point.

He sighed and looked up to me. “It’s the same pattern. Nothing new.” He dropped his tools into a tub of disinfectant, then washed his gloved hands. Jules had taught me how to protect myself before I’d gotten started. Cover your nose and mouth. Wear gloves. Wash yourself thoroughly before and after touching the afflicted. Wear a mask when going out into the quarantine areas.

When in doubt, burn everything you wear and scrub yourself thoroughly. And do not let the afflicted touch your skin.

I didn’t understand how this was to help, but when I saw other doctors who didn’t practice these rules get sick and die, I knew that adopting the practices helped in some way. Jules had even tried to set forth a program for washing in the city, and while some people followed it, most did not. Bathing _caused_ sickness, they argued.

“Well, look at this,” I said. I extended the deceased’s arm to show a small bruise on the inside of his elbow. Jules came over and looked at it. “What do you think?”

“Postmortem bruising. It happens when too much force is given to the body after death. Maybe when he was picked up. Attendants can be quite careless. I’ll ask them to…”

“But so fine?” I ran my thumb over the spot, then peered closer. “Here.” I let go and went to find a magnifying tool. I set it on a rolling cart, and wheeled it close to the body. I positioned the arm so that we could peer at it, and I fiddled with the lenses until the bruise clarified before our eyes.

A set of punctures were now visible to us.

“A bite?” Jules frowned. “Perhaps it was a spider.”

“I thought so too, but…” I turned to another body and pointed to a spot on its thigh. It was easy to miss, and anyone could dismiss it as a bruise. I then motioned to a spot on the abdomen of another body. “They all have the mark, Doctor. Some of them have more than one.” I lifted the body a bit, and revealed more marks dotting the corpse’s back.

“Hmm. There could be an infestation in the area that these people lived in.”

“Maybe. But you’ve been searching for the cause of this plague for so long. If it was a miasma, as one would generally think…”

“Which has been dismissed long ago…”

“Yes. Which means there must be another way for it to be spread.” I set the body down and thought on it. “I could look for this when I see people in the clinic this week.”

Jules thought on it. “Very well. But please…”

“Be careful?” I smirked, even though he couldn’t see it through the mask. “Of course, Doctor.” He looked down at the bodies, and his finger ran over one of the bites. I think, then, I should have committed him to memory. Maybe I did. But the memory of him was a haze. I knew he didn’t really stand there, his hair tousled and uncovered, his face without his mask. I know, when I looked at him, he was not staring at me, standing in his shirtsleeves, his lips in that sweet smile of his.

Out of all the memories I ever retained, this one was most prominent, and…it was a false one at that.

I left the palace the next morning, and headed to the clinic. I spent the next week examining the afflicted, and carefully cataloging their names and where the bites were on their bodies. And there were bites. Every single one of them had at least one bite, but no one could tell where the bite had come from. I asked about spiders, lice, anything. Some of them did have lice, and fleas. But no one could agree on where the mysterious bite came from. I made a note to contact someone who specialized in bugs, or to peruse the palace library for books on the subject.

There was little I could do for those bitten, however, aside from pack them up with medicines and pain relieving spells, and send them home.

One night, though, as I was looking over the names – hundreds of them – and the locations of the bitemarks…and where they all lived, I saw that there was indeed a pattern. None of these people lived in the formerly quarantined zones. Surely there should be a straggler here or there, especially as the plague followed a random pattern that often left survivors here and there.

Perhaps I should not question the sick. Perhaps I should question those who have survived.

Which meant heading into those zones. I tapped my fingers on my desk nervously. Jules would certainly not approve of this. But it made sense, and he possibly could have overlooked it. Or…maybe he did see the pattern, and did not wish to risk such a dangerous investigation.

The quarantine zones would practically be devoid of human life, now. I could go in quite easily, and would probably not be questioned or disturbed. I could slip in and hopefully find _someone_ , and then, ask a few questions. Did they get bitten? Did they notice any insects or small animals scurrying about?

I got up with mind to go tell Jules, but hesitated. To get to Jules, I’d have to go through Valdemar and…that creepy…person, whatever they were, did not sit right with me. They took too much relish in the death and decay that came with the plague. And they’ve been keeping Jules to themselves too much as of late, as if afraid to let him come here. I knew that the clinic was meant to be a sort of punishment for me, but I believe my fresh perspective was breathing new life into Jules’s investigation.

Something Valdemar showed extreme dislike for.

I remembered them standing there, watching me, with that unblinking gaze of theirs. No. Perhaps I would tell Jules _after_ I went. If I found anything of note. So, I got ready to go. I put on my jacket and doctor’s coat, then that horrible mask that the plague doctors liked to wear. It smelled good inside, thanks to the herbs and such, but it always made me feel horribly claustrophobic. The lens on the eyes cast the world in a horrid red glare.

I pulled on gloves and boots, and the hat. No bit of me was exposed, anywhere. I’d cut my hair shorter, leaving only a bit of curl near the top and front, to deal with all the masks and caps I wore now that I worked in medicine. I headed out, and was glad to see that people pretty much avoided me in this getup. It was quite ridiculous. But I was able to make my way past the sick and dying…and the tattered posters warning people about the plague.

I made it to the quarantined zones, which were now open for passage. Well, now that the quarantine did not stop the plague anyway. I pushed past opened fences and gates that had separated the city into sections, and found myself in a familiar place. I summoned light to my hands, then sent it off to the long unused lamps and lanterns. Half of them didn’t light, as they were out of fuel. But it was enough light for me to see the streets better.

I was in the shopping district. Or what was left of it, anyway. The storefronts had been boarded up and looted long ago. With no one to maintain the water levels and pumps, the district was home to standing pools and channels of water that crept in from the streets into the abandoned buildings. No one seemed to be here.

I sighed when the streets became choked. I did not wish to wade into stagnant water, which carried its own problems and diseases. I took off the mask and looked about, hoping the loss of the red lens would let me see something I had missed. But, no, the place was empty.

I turned back, and did a better job in looking into the buildings I could access. Aside from the looted stores, it appeared that time had come to stand still here. There were kitchens with food still in the pantries, albeit it was rotten now. Someone had stopped slicing bread, as the knife was still embedded in the molded loaf. Toys were scattered through a living room here. Someone hadn’t even had time to make the bed, there.

None of these people were ever coming back. They were all dead, or they had fled. If there were survivors, why would they stay here? There was no point to it. I looked out past the streets to where they dipped down into the water that ran to the shore. Boats waited there. And beyond, the Lazaret.

This certainly was a Fool’s errand. I smirked to myself, when I thought of Asra and the card he’d pulled. I wondered, for a moment, as I looked upon the sea, what he was doing. Where had he gone? Was he…was he thinking of me?

Something skittered by in the street behind me. I whirled about and shone light upon the cobblestones, but there was nothing there. I heard it again, and turned to face the sound, but again, nothing. Each time I thought I saw or heard something, I turned to find nothingness.

“I’m going mad,” I muttered to myself. It was time to go. I turned back up the street and hurriedly made my way out of there, my mask swinging in my hand.

And then, I heard the noise again, but this time, it was a great wave of the same noise, all about me. I froze in my tracks and looked about. This time, whatever it was, was not hiding. It came as a flood of dark shapes, all skittering over each other and undulating in a sickeningly not-quite-liquid form over the walls of the surrounding buildings. I blinked at the movement, then realized that whatever it was, it was closing the space about me _._ My eyes widened, and I turned and ran.

I could hear the skittering mass follow me as I turned down alleys and streets. Every time I thought I found headway, my passage was blocked by the shadowy mass. At some point I tripped and fell, and the mask spun away from me into the shadows. I forgot it. I had to leave. I could always get a new mask. I turned down another street, then another…to a dead end.

I whirled about, just as the beetles rounded the corner. I pressed into the wall, then brought up a shield of energy. The mass hit it, and I saw it for what it really was. Beetles. Thousands upon thousands of red, shining beetles.

They swarmed the shield, which I fought to keep up. Their pincer legs and fangs attacked over and over, but I kept the thing going. I had to. But the beetles kept coming, and they were climbing over themselves, crushing and killing each other to get to me, and layering themselves upon their dead bretherin. They created a wall of carapaces, climbing steadily over the shield, thousands, no, millions of them, until they blocked out the light of the lamps and swallowed me and my shield whole.


	13. The Lazaret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani really, really sucks at self preservation.

I woke up with a jolt. For a moment I scrabbled at my skin, scraping it with my nails, trying to get…something off me. I had the oddest sensation of things crawling all over me, like millipedes or cockroaches. My ears rang and my bones ached. I was drenched with sweat from a fitful sleep. I got up and pushed my clothes off me like they were the offending insects of my dreams, and took as scalding hot of a bath as I could tolerate. I scrubbed every part of me twice, no, three times. I dragged a comb through my hair to make sure I had no lice. I was so disturbed that I did not even put on any jewelry.

I gave myself a moment to rest over breakfast. Hard boiled eggs and biscuits with tea. I groaned as I took my first bite. I missed much more…fancy fare. But…I suppose, around here, this was as good as it was going to get.

The morning messenger came with letters from the palace. The Count demanded progress, as he did every morning. Valdemar – _shudder_ – demanded to know what came of my investigation of the bites. Jules…

I ran my finger over the raven seal. I smirked when I thought of the raven that liked to follow him about now and then. Malak, he called it. He insisted it wasn’t his bird, but he could barely remember a time where the creature did not follow him about. _He just showed up one day_.

I cracked the seal and read what he had to say.

_Dearest, it appears that the plague has threatened the borders out of Vesuvia. Our neighbors are going to start closing routes into the city. The Count is, of course, very thrilled at all of this. It isn’t stopping his plans for the masquerade, however. I wanted to remind you of what I said. But…if you remain dedicated to this cause, please know I may have taken the liberty of picking out costumes for us…J._

Something was written below his name in that other language he spoke when teasing me. I never could figure it out. I smiled and looked down at the letters. I could imagine the words. Something hidden. Something he wanted to say but couldn’t. I sighed. It had been too long since we’d had time to ourselves. I missed him terribly, and this time, the absence between us was no fault of either of ours.

I set the letter down and began penning others to the Count and Valdemar…then stopped. I had discovered something. But…what was it? I tried to think, but the memory eluded me. Something…red. And skittering. Fast…and…

The beetles.

My eyes widened as I remembered something vague regarding beetles, and I instantly pulled up my sleeves and shirttails to check myself for bites. My skin was smooth and unbroken under my fingers. I got up and checked myself over in the mirror, and went so far as to pull down my trousers and check everywhere there as well. My fingers dug in my scalp. Behind my ears. My armpits. But…nothing…

I sighed in relief, then went back to writing the letters. They were identical, the same information being reported to both Valdemar and Lucio. The plague was possibly being caused by bites inflicted by beetles, and thus, once the beetles were eradicated, perhaps the plague would as well. I sealed them then…thought about it. I then repeated the same message to Jules, and bade him to keep the costumes unwrinkled.

I handed the messages off to the midmorning messenger, then decided to get ready for patients. I went to the cabinet that held my doctor’s uniform…to find it empty. Frowning, I checked the clothes bin. Not only was the uniform not there, but there were no dirty uniforms there either. I frowned and looked about, poking into every cabinet and shelf I had, even the ones in my personal area, but found nothing.

_When in doubt, burn everything you wear._

I frowned, then got up on my bed to look out the window to the alleyway behind the clining. There I saw the wastebin, blackened from fire, with ash inside. A single uniform sleeve had managed to escape the pyre. I had somehow burnt all my uniforms and had not remembered it. I looked about, and saw evidence of other things I had done without remembering. The sink was dirty with sprinkles of mud, hardly noticeable, and the soap there had been used and tossed out. Some towels were missing. Probably burnt as well, after using them to wash the night before.

I sat on the bed and tried to think. The beetles. I remembered the red beetles. But I didn’t remember anything before seeing them, and after. Where had I gone? What had I done?

I returned to my desk and looked through my notes. I re-read the ones about my patients, and where they lived. My conclusion returned to me, and I realized what I had done. I had gone to the quarantined zones. I had…

Pain wracked my body, squeezing down upon me from within and making me almost double over at the suddenness of it. I was unable to make a sound for a moment, and then it released me. My hand had come up to rest upon my right side, and realization came to me as I uncurled myself when the pain subsided.

The first sign of the plague.

No.

It couldn’t be.

I wasn’t bitten. And if my theory was right, I would need to be bitten in order to contract the plague. Right?

I started penning another letter, as I was stuck here in the clinic until a new uniform arrived for me. An evening messenger would come, and I could ask for a new uniform then, and possibly warn Jules…not to come to the clinic…

By the time I had finished the letter, I was beside myself with pain. Sweat had broken out over my entire body. I took a few doses of pain medication, but it did little to make the pain subside. I knew what was happening. The liver was being attacked. Within a week, it would be destroyed, along with other things. Including myself.

My fingers bunched the letter up into a ball. I could not have Jules come down here at all. I went to the door and made sure that the closed sign was visible, and barricaded the handle with a chair. At least…at least the other messages were gone to the palace. I did what I could. And…perhaps they would be able to stop the beetles before…

I slid down against the door and curled my arms about me as more pain overtook me.

Before I died?

 

…

Asra was right. Asra had been right, the entire time.

I could only think of him, now, as I lay there in my bed. It had been three days since I’d sent the message. This morning, I lay there, sticky with sweat, and heard the messenger pounding on the door. Open up, open up, he’d shouted. In the name of the Count!

I had no strength to get up and let them in. Coughs wracked me every other breath, it seemed, and I lay so that my face was pointed towards the floor, where blood-tinged spittle flew with each fit.

My limbs were heavy and weak. My body was wracked by bouts of shivering and alternated with bouts of sweating. I was now feverish, and sweat dripped down my brow and slicked my hair. I could only imagine what I looked like. A pale pallor to my skin. Chapped lips. Sweaty, slicked, blood crusted at my nose and lips.

Somehow, someone got the door open. It slammed back with a crash that was dull in my ringing ears. People streamed in, but they were dark shapes against the blinding light of the outside world. Hands grabbed me up, and I was moving. Was I walking? I didn’t know. I was then in a smaller space, but still moving. I didn’t understand what was happening. I couldn’t hear any words. Only my own breathing and pounding heartbeat.

Next, I was laying on a table, and someone was fussing over me. My vision cleared, barely, so that I could make out who it was. It was Jules, his nose and mouth covered with one of those paper masks. He was speaking to me, but I couldn’t make out his words. His hands were examining me, and they were red hot pokers, with each touch twisting agony into my skin.

“Jules…” I managed. My voice did not sound like my voice.

“Just lie still, Hani. I’ve got a few remedies up my sleeve…I’ll fix this, you’ll see…”

My fingers found his arm. I tried to squeeze it, but my touch was weak. “It was…it was…” I wanted to say, it was a red beetle. I remembered, now. The swarm of them, in the flooded district. “They…bite…”

“Please, Hani. Don’t talk…save your strength.”

I whimpered in frustration. My words were not coming through, although my mind raced. My throat worked, but just pained moans escaped me.

“Doctor!”

It was Valdemar. They were arguing with Jules. I tried to follow the conversation, but could only determine that the argument was about me. Guards entered the room, and Jules was being pulled away. He yelled something, but…the noise, all of it, hurt my ears. I shut my eyes, as if that would drown out the sound.

I was forced to my feet, and I was being moved again. I let myself be moved about. I couldn’t resist, and there was no strength within me to fight if I wanted to. I was…on a wagon, being taken through Vesuvia. I could make out vague shapes of buildings, and maybe…some of it looked familiar? I slumped against the wall of the cart, and landed on something soft.

Another person.

I was in a cart full of the sick. The cart’s ride grew bumpy, and I saw that we were on the docks. “Asra…?”

People were being loaded off the cart and then loaded into boats. Men in strange beaked masks were ferrying the boats out towards an island with a strange tower built on it.

The Lazaret.

The hospital, built to try and help the afflicted.

Smoke poured from its tallest tower, thick and black and oily looking.

Someone was pulling me into a boat. I watched as the dock grew smaller as the boat was pushed towards the island. I thought how, once upon a time, I sat on the edge of that dock, sharing bread with Asra. How happy I was, then. How I just wanted to stay by Asra’s side forever, and just…enjoy him.

Why didn’t that happen?

Oh yes. I stayed. And he left, never to be seen again.

Could he come, now? Just when I needed him? Would he come and save me? Surely…he would know a way…

Attendants on the island dragged me from the boat, then carried me into the main building itself. Someone examined me, some stranger in a beaked mask. It looked so strangely familiar. Where had I seen that mask before?

My eyes were prised open, and light was shone into them. They spoke to someone who I could not see, as turning my head required too much energy. “A day, or less.”

A day or less _for what_?

I was taken to another room, which was warm. The warmth was soothing against my now chilled skin. I was placed against a wall and left there, my legs folded awkwardly under me. My eyes looked about, and through the haze I could make out other weakened people, coughing and shivering. Their eyes were red, a mark of the advanced stages of the disease.

Oh. A day.

I’d be dead soon.

The day the doctor spoke of stretched out before me in some strange malformation of time. It passed too fast, with people moving too swiftly about me, but also too slow, with my own body suffering far too long. No one paid attention to the little crumpled mess of a person that was Hani, coughing in the corner, forgotten. No one came to drape a blanket over my shoulders or give me water. No food was offered. No comfort, no prayers. Nothing.

I tried to keep my wits about me as the thing progressed within me. I could not see myself, but I imagined my eyes were now completely red. It was hard to breathe, and my insides ached. I knew, before death, a person would suddenly feel better for a bit. Not completely, but would become lucid and energetic. This was due to the organs failing, and energy to keep them alive was returned to the person.

I felt it, and knew. I raised my head and looked about, blinking. I could see where I was now, and what was happening. We, as in, myself and my hapless fellow plague victims, rested in a room that was warm, but other than that, had no other comfort. The adjacent room was busy with people rushing in and out. I could hear rushing noises. Rolling noises.

Someone strode by, and I reached out for them. “Please, wait! I am a doctor!”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re dying.” They said. They hurried to get past me.

“Please, you must tell Doctor Jules something for me!” My voice rasped, and I coughed.

“That’s a task for people higher on the pay scale than me,” the person said, before leaving the room. I tried again with others, but they said more or less the same thing. Their job was to help the sick here, although they wouldn’t tell me how. I begged for water, some food.

I was ignored.

And I could feel lucidity leave me again. My body was realizing that it was dying, and the process of shutting down was coming to a conclusion. There was no energy to keep my alive. The plague was almost done destroying me. I sank back down into a state of weakness, but this time I did not even have the ability to cough. My breaths were just one long, slow rasp that undulated in pitch. In, _rasp_. Out, _rasp_.

My limbs once again became unresponsive. I slid down the wall and lay against the ground.

Tears beaded at the edges of my eyes, and I felt them slip down the sides of my face to my ears, blessed coolness over raging hot skin.

Asra was right.

I could have left with him. I could have left when Jules told me to. And this would have never happened. I would not be here. I would not be…dying. I whimpered. _Oh, Asra._

_Asra, please. I just…_

_I just want to see you, one last time. I just…want to see your smile. I want…_

_I want…_

_I…_

I gasped a breath. And then another.

And then, my last.

 

…

 

I knew it when I stood, and my limbs no longer felt so weak and heavy. I breathed in, deep, and did not rasp out this time. I smiled, but the smile fell from me when I caught sight of the form at my feet.

It was me.

I was so small, so weak looking. My eyes, stained red, were half open, my body pressed against a dirty wall. Despite my colorful shirt and trousers, I looked so foreign to my own eyes. I was, in the matter of a week, thin and paled. Surely…this creature had not been me?

I knelt. How could my desire to help have just…killed me? I reached out to touch my own face, but my fingers passed through my body as if I were not even there. Other hands came down upon my body then, pulling it up from the ground. I watched myself be handled, my limbs and neck limp. I was taken to that adjacent room and lifted to a metal plank, and my limbs were arranged…before I was being rolled towards an open chasm in the wall, lit up with flames.

Oh, that’s where the warmth came from.

I watched as my body was rolled into it, and as the flames licked over that foreign form. I found myself somewhat relieved. It was all over, now. All that pain bubbled up with the blisters that formed on my skin, and burned away with my hair that turned to ash before my eyes. My clothes peeled away like paper before the door to the crematorium was slid shut.

“Are you done with this, then?”

I frowned. “Really? You?”

“Well, who else? You really can’t stay here, you know. Its dangerous. Saps your strength.”

The Fool stood behind me, their ever-present smile playful on their lips. Their fur ruffled in the breeze, and I saw that he wasn’t actually here at all. He stood in a doorway, which was open to another realm. “Aren’t I supposed to just…move on? Pass on?”

“You can, if you want. Move to the bright light and all that.” He motioned to a pinprick of white light that appeared in the distance, even though it was not distant at all. “Or you can rest in my realm. Its all up to you.”

“If I go…I can rest.”

“Either way, you can rest. But I promise you’ll have a much better time of it over here.”

I looked to The Fool. “Why do you want me there?”

“I can explain, but I can’t explain here. There are ears, you know. And some things need to be private. Between friends!” He clapped a hand over my shoulder. “Come on then. You can always come back here, if you want. That will always be waiting for you.” He pointed to the light.

I nodded, and followed him through the doorway. As I did, my clothes melted away into ones that were more…me. Colorfully and extravagantly _me._ Flowing garments, beaded and embroidered and colorful. My hair grew and was twinged first with blue, then with pink. I changed my mind again, and changed it to purple. The Fool only laughed, and by the time we touched down on the grasses of his realm, I’d forgotten all about my death. I placed my hand in his, and we ran, galloping across the grassy plains in joy.

I tore away from him and whirled about, my arms wide. The cosmos sparkled up above us, and a playful wind toyed with my clothing and hair. I felt so…very free. I lowered my arms and realized I was at a crossroads, quite literally. The Fool was standing there, too. “Where do they all go?”

“Anywhere, everywhere,” The Fool found the marker post and spun about it. “Wherever you want. Any time, any place.”

“I want to see it all.” And I took off down one path. I could hear The Fool behind me, keeping pace. We ran down grassy slopes dotted with glowing flowers that gave off stardust when touched. We tumbled down into soft sandy beaches with pink waves lapping at the shores. We laughed. We were jubilant. We were…

I raised my head. We weren’t alone. I looked about, then spied a figure, down further along the beach. “Someone is here.”

“Oh, yes. You said you wanted to see him one last time.” The Fool motioned to the figure. “I didn’t think he’d actually come, but it turns out he’s been here for a while.”

I looked to The Fool, then to the figure. As he got closer, I could make out the color of his hair, of his skin. White, over honeyed tan. He walked barefoot on the beach, his slippers in his hand. He seemed oblivious to our presence, so I just…watched him. A wistful smile was on his lips. His clothes, colorful and so…him…were being softly tousled by the wind.

He was as beautiful as he was the first day I’d seen him.

Asra.


	14. The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asra realizes that something is very, very wrong.

My breath caught in my throat, and I realized that The Fool had gotten up to retreat a respectable distance. He played about in the waves out of earshot, but close enough so that I could see him. I smiled and almost got up to go with him, but…

I turned to look upon Asra again. For a moment, he didn’t see me. He was deep in contemplation. I wanted…something told me that I should be angry with him. Anger. Anger? What was anger? Asra had been the cause of so much unpleasantness, when I was alive. Right?

I couldn’t remember exactly what the reasons were. No, wait. I did. He left me, and never came back. And I _knew_ I should be angry because of this. Who just _leaves_? But for some reason, when I looked on Asra, all I could really feel was…overwhelming joy.

The moment he finally did see me caused him to halt in his tracks. The absent smile left his face, and he looked about, as if, somehow, I shouldn’t have been there. He returned his eyes to me. Confusion was unmistakable on his voice. “Hani?”

“Asra!” I got to my feet, kicking up sand, and ran over to him. I grabbed him up in an embrace so quickly that he couldn’t really respond, and could only spin about as I caught him in the momentum of my hug. I stood back, my hands against his face, and grinned at him. “I’ve…I’ve missed you!”

And I had. I had missed him…so very much. I thought, perhaps, I should be sad. I remembered tears being cried over him, but that seemed so long ago. But that didn’t matter anymore, did it? He was here. He was here, finally, with me.

His hands came up to mine and touched my fingers gently. He smiled a bit, but it seemed difficult for him to do so. “Missed me? How…long have I been gone?”

I shrugged. “Two years? Three?” I forgot just how long it had been. Time, for some reason, didn’t make much sense all of a sudden. I draped my arms over his shoulders and pulled closer. “I forget.”

“Two or three years…” Asra’s brows furrowed, and his eyes trailed off to some point behind me. “Are you sure?”

“Not really.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Here? In the Fool’s realm?” I shrugged. “I just got here.”

“Just now?”

“Yeah, why?” I grabbed his hand as it touched my sleeve, and laced my fingers through his. I began to lead him down the beach, and pointed to the Fool who was now flying a gossamer kite he'd summoned from nowhere. “I’ll introduce you to him, if you’d like. You were so right, Asra. He and I are almost _the same!_ Its almost like we’re twins or something. I like it here. Its so much more fun than Vesuvia.”

“How so?”

“Well, with everyone dying and everything…”

Asra halted in his steps, and it was only his hand holding mine that kept me from continuing down the beach. Asra gave a shake of his head. “People are dying?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been gone far too long…look. Hani, you know that time doesn’t work the same here, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well…you say I have been gone years. But…to me, I’ve only been gone a few weeks.” Asra frowned. His other hand closed over my own. “Hani, I’m sorry. I lost track…”

“But you’re here now, right?” I shrugged. I smiled and motioned up the knoll to where the roads led to the crossroads. “Come on, the things I want to show you…”

“No, Hani…I’ve got to get back.”

“What? You just got here.”

“Hani, come on. Let’s go…” He pulled at my hand.

“No, Asra, I can’t go with you.”

“Please, Hani. I know that you enjoy the energy of this realm, but we can’t stay here too long. Your body is not protected, alone in Vesuvia. If you say people are dying…we should go. I will return to my body, and you to yours, and it will take me a few days to get back to the shop…”

“No, Asra! I want to stay here, where…things are fun. Where I can go anywhere I want, and every road leads to a new adventure! Think of it! I could scale mountains and swim in seas! Cross meadows and glaciers! Imagine all that we could see and do here! Asra…!” I motioned about us. Comets shot out across the sky. I laughed. I became transfixed by all that surrounded me. “Its so…beautiful.”

“Then I will return, and I will go to the shop. It will take me a few days, but hopefully by then you will have returned. If not, at least I can protect you…” Asra shook his head and began to head back the way he came.

“I’m not at the shop, Asra.” I lowered my gaze to the starry horizon upon the sea.

“Then where are you? The palace? The sanctuary?”

“No.” A few snippets of memories came back to me. It was hard to recall full memories here. It was almost as if they were melting away, and what I could remember was turning into hazy, distorted versions of what I did actually experience. But I remembered the Lazaret. I frowned. “I’m at the Lazaret.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the hospital.”

Asra wheeled about and grabbed my shoulders with his hands. “The hospital? Why are you at the hospital, Hani?”

I tried to remember. “Why am I at the hospital?”

“Yes, why are you at the hospital? Are you sick?”

“No, I’m not sick.”

“Then why are you at…” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Just…don’t go anywhere, Hani, alright? Promise me you will stay right here, okay?” He hurriedly picked up the slippers he’d dropped and began to put them on.

“But what about…”

“Right. Here!”

“Alright, alright, Asra! Why are you so worried?” I chuckled at the panic evident on his face. “Are you going, now?”

“Yes, I am. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, good. Then we can go…”

He shook his head. A doorway, more like a rift, really, opened up behind him. If I hadn’t seen the ripple it caused, I wouldn’t have recognized it for what it was. I almost asked him where he was going, but he stepped through the rift, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

I blinked, then shrugged. I turned and hurried up the beach to where The Fool was performing tricks with his kite. He grinned over at me as I neared, and let me take up the kite string when I motioned for it. He gave a whistle when I was able to get the kite to perform a swirl in the air. “Did seeing him help you?”

“Yes! I am so happy that I saw him!” I smiled wistfully as I remembered him. He had smiled at me. He said he missed me. “He said he’s coming back.”

“Where did he go?”

“To find me.”

“But, Hani,” The Fool chuckled. “He isn’t going to find you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re dead, remember?”

I thought, then burst out laughing. “Oh, right! I forgot. Oh…that will not be pleasant for Asra when he tries to find me. I probably should have warned him that I was dead.” I shrugged again. It didn’t worry me too much, and neither did the stray thought that I should be worried by it.

“It seems that time is progressing in your realm much faster than it is here. Your memories seem to be fading because your hold on that realm is lessening. It may be prudent to go back every now and then. Especially since you have a task to fulfill.”

“A task?” I shrugged. “What task is more important than this?” The kite performed another trick. We laughed at it.

“Why, rebirth, of course! You do remember Judgment, do you not?”

“No.”

“Let me help you.” The Fool reached up into the sky, and bubbles began floating down. They miraculously avoided the kite and its string, and instead of landing on the sand, they hovered about us in a small cloud. The fool guided one bubble to me, and with one finger, pushed it against my forehead.

I saw…me. Sitting at the little table in the market, in Vesuvia. Asra sat across from me, in his ragged clothing, and…much too thin. I’d almost forgotten how he’d looked then, the day we had met. He was looking down at a spread of cards. I was eating bread.

_“Well, then. What’s the next card say?” I could feel it singing from the deck, begging to be pulled._

_He picked it up and looked upon the face, then set it down for me to see._

_Judgment._

_“That’s a talkative one, isn’t it?” I commented._

_“Yes. It speaks what Death will not. A promise of rebirth. Whatever happens, it seems that…you will be given the chance to…set it all right.” His eyes met mine. “But it says nothing else.”_

_“So,” I motioned to the strange spread. All major arcana, none reversed. I hadn’t seen a clearer message in ages. “The fool, and his three friends,” I motioned to the three cards beside each other. “Dancing beyond the Devil’s reach.” I waggled my fingers over the Devil card, and flitted them to the Death card. “Towards an inevitable cycle of ambiguity. But all is not lost.” I smirked. “It sounds exciting.”_

_“It sounds worrisome.”_

_“Do you worry for me, my new friend?”_

Asra looked into my eyes. His eyes were such a beautiful shade. Blue, intermingled with mystical energies, reflecting them purple to me.

I blinked, and the memory faded. “Oh. Rebirth. Yes.” I shrugged and returned my attentions to the kite. “Maybe I don’t want to go back.”

“And why not?”

“I died!” My exclamation caused the kite to bob on its string. “I got sick, and no one knew! All those people who were my friends, all those people who were close to me…not one person was there when I died. No one could stop it, just like they couldn’t stop any of the deaths from the plague! Why would I go back to a place of…of suffering?” I frowned up at the Fool. I didn’t want to fly kites anymore. As if on cue it disappeared from the realm, and the string in my hand ceased to be.

“That does not mean you will suffer the same fate.” The Fool waved his hand, and suddenly we were sitting at the crossroads again. “If we took the same route down to the beach again, do you really think you’d find the beach there? Do you really think you’d see Asra there, again?”

“Yes. That is how things work.”

“Is it?” The Fool looked down the path. “Let’s go try it.” He took off, down the same path we’d gone before. I sighed and followed, less jubilant than I had the first time. We passed the fields of stardust flowers, and ended up at the beach again. This time, however, the sea was turbulent with an impending storm. The waves crashed upon the beach. The heavens above were also different, with a supernova forming where the clouds parted. Lightning flashed on the horizon.

I motioned to the beach. “Beach.”

“Is it the same beach?” The Fool frowned with raised brows, and traipsed down into the sand. He scooped up a handful. “Now, I am not an expert on all tiny things, but I’d like to think that the same beach we stepped on a few hours ago is not this same beach.” He let the sand fall back to the ground. “And this water…” He motioned to the surf that swirled about his ankles when it surged forward from the sea. “Is not the same water I played in earlier.”

He motioned down the beach. “And Asra is not here. His footsteps are gone. What may happen now may be the same as what happened before, but…is there not magic in the difference? Are you so quick to dismiss the wonders you are faced with now?”

I blinked and looked about. It was…different. I moved down onto the beach, and felt the sand swirling into my shoes, along with the sea. The storm rolled in closer, and the wind was erratic, whipping my hair at odd angles. I hugged my arms about me. “It is…unpleasant. Let’s go…”

“But is it _the same_?”

“No, but…”

“Then what makes you think that what you experienced in the past is what will happen again?”

I shrugged, or tried to. I was freezing. I shuddered. I was quickly getting wet from the spray of the ocean, and rain was starting to fall. Lightning arced across the sky, and was followed by angry thunder. The turgid waves rose in height.

“What if…what if its worse?” I asked.

“And what if it isn’t?”

“Please…I want to leave.” I turned away from the sea and took a few steps, and found myself at the crossroads once again. My clothes and hair were dry, but my skin was so cold. I shivered again. The Fool seemed unaffected.

“You have a chance to go back,” The Fool said. “Not many people ever do. In fact, of my knowledge, only two people will ever have the chance. One of them is you.”

“And the other?”

“Lucio.”

My arms lowered to my sides. “What?”

“Lucio! He’s made quite a few…decisions that has prolonged his life. Prowess in battle, immunity to illness, being ageless…to name a few. I mean, you have noticed it, right?”

“I think so.”

“It is all so powerful! So powerful, in fact, that some people around him even benefit from it. Doctor Jules, for example. He was there when Lucio lost his arm, so many years ago. But he’s aged slowly since then. And Lucio’s wife! There are others who are caught in time as well, who have even stopped aging! Isn’t it amazing!”

“Its dangerous,” I said softly. “What decisions did he make?”

“Well, he exchanged a few things for these gifts. He will make another decision soon, for what was promised you. I mean, if you don’t want it.”

“I don’t,” I said. I frowned and looked up at the post with the crossing signs. “But Lucio…has hurt so many. Every person who has fought his games. Muriel!” I suddenly remembered Muriel, and brought my hands to my face. “And Asra! He does not deserve rebirth!”

“It is not up to us to decide who deserves what, Hani. You may feel you did not deserve to die, but everyone in your realm dies one day or another.”

“No. I don’t feel that at all.” I sighed and sank down into a crouch. “I did what I did, and my decisions lead me to death. So many others have also died. I am no better than any of them.”

‘True. But…Hani, whatever you need to know in order to decide to go back, it matters not. You must just decide if you will or not. And if that is your decision, you must set the ball rolling. You will need help. You will have my help, of course.”

“I will?”

“Yes! I have my reasons for not wanting Lucio to take your promise. But I cannot force you to do this. Each decision, each path you take…” He waved up to the post. “Is your decision to make. Whatever the consequence.”

I thought on it. My mind tried to think of reasons for me to go back, but again, memories were hard to come by. But I thought…of Asra. And Muriel. And…and Jules. Warm feelings were hidden behind smiles and glances and… “I wish I could see them. I wish I could remember them.”

“Well, you can go see them.”

I perked up. “I can?”

“Of course! You can go to your realm at any time. When you do, memories will come back to you, as that is where they are. And you can go where you please. But know that the more time you spend there, the weaker your spirit will become.”

“Then I probably shouldn’t go then!”

“But you must. After all, if you do decide to return, and I mean as an alive person, you will need help. It takes a powerful spell to attain rebirth, and you will need friends to help bring you back. You will need to tell them what to do.”

“Well…what would I need to tell them? I mean, if I did decide to go back. Not that I have decided that! But…if I did, what must…what must I tell them?”

The Fool grinned. “There is a symbol. Here…let me show you…”

 

…

 

When I stepped back into the other realm, I found myself on the beaches of the Lazaret. This wasn’t…exactly where I wanted to go, and that feeling was reiterated as soon as memories came flooding back to me. I winced against them, as they were memories of my last day. They came with all sorts of emotions I did not wish to feel. Anger. Sorrow. Loneliness.

I tried to bat them away as someone would bat away gnats or flies, and made my way down the beach. I had to get somewhere in particular, I knew that for sure. I walked along the driftwood and kelp-stewn sand, not really feeling it under my feet. There was a breeze, but I couldn’t feel that either. I realized that I was little more than a ghost here. I didn’t know how I would be able to do anything here, but, I was willing to try.

Energy called to me, so I hurried to a spot in the beach. I knelt by where I knew I should, and waited. It took some time, and evening was drawing to night when Asra came searching down the beaches. Somehow, I knew he would be coming. He was yelling my name.

I pointed to the sand beneath me and focused my energy. He latched onto it and ran over. He sank to his knees before me, and for a moment I thought, perhaps, he could see me. But his eyes searched the wrong spot, and I knew he could not see me at all. He looked down beneath us, and then he began to dig. He dug and dug until his fingers were covered in blood from digging in the sharp sand. He panted. Tears dripped from his eyes.

“Hani…please...” He sobbed. “Oh god, Hani. Please let….please not be here.”

I pointed. What was I even doing? I didn’t quite understand it myself. But something needed to be resolved before I could get Asra to focus on the tasks I needed him to perform. And…before _I_ could focus on those tasks as well.

A proper burial.

He went at it again, but winced and hissed at the pain in his hands. But he didn’t have far to go. His hands curled against something round and solid, something that wasn’t a rock or sand.

He cried out in anguish before his hands even pulled the object out. His violet eyes stared into blank and dark eye sockets. His thumbs grazed over an empty nasal aperture. Over blackened teeth. A bottom jaw that slid off and fell back into the hole he’d created. His mouth was open in a soundless wail. His stomach clenched, and he doubled over, his arms clutching the skull to his chest.

I looked upon him and could not summon any emotion regarding this display. I suppose it hurt me to see him this way, but at the same time, I think I grieved my own death enough. I then remembered what I was told about the Arcana realm. Time passed differently. I had had ages to grieve the loss of my life. He’d probably had…well, now.

I reached out to touch his hair, but my hand passed through him as if he were not there. How silly. I was the one who wasn’t really there. I sighed and looked away.

Asra sniffed. “H…Hani?”

I returned my gaze to Asra. He was looking about him, the skull held loosely in his arms with his fingers absently grazing the sagittal suture. I noticed Faust wrapped about his neck and arm. She was looking right at me. “Oh, hello, Faust.”

Asra’s eyes snapped to my general direction. His cheeks were wet with tears. His grasp on my skull tightened. “Hani! Are you….are you there? Is that you? This energy…it has to be you. It feels like you…please…tell me you are here…”

“Well, yes, I’m here. Could you please stop crushing my skull? You have to give me a proper burial before we move onto the next task, and I’d prefer if you didn’t…smash me into tiny pieces. I mean, you’re already going to have a hell of a time with all the metatarsals…”

Asra looked to Faust, then back to me. “I…Faust hears you, but…it isn’t clear.” He rubbed at his face with the back of a hand. “Oh, Hani…I am so sorry…!” Tears began to flow anew.

“Your grief is keeping you from hearing me, or seeing me,” I muttered. “Yes, I’m dead. I died. But…that’s irrelevant. Just…”

“A burial?” Asra looked to the skull, then to the hole he’d created. Other bones rested in there. “I guess…I guess I can do that…” He sat back, and I could see that he was…exhausted. He rested his head in his hand and tried to breathe the urge to sob away.

I reached out for him, and he flinched when my fingers passed through his shin. He looked to it. He sighed. “I can feel you, Hani. I think that was you. I know you’re here. But if you’re here, you know that it is dangerous for you to be here. I must’ve…I must’ve seen you in the Arcana realm right after…” He choked up. “That’s why you didn’t want to go back. Because you couldn’t.”

“I can, actually. I just can’t stay here long.”

I don’t think he heard me this time, because he kept babbling. “Hani…I am so sorry.” He looked to the Lazaret towers. “You…what a lonely death. I…” He shook his head. “I am truly a horrible person, to have left you to this. I should have…done something to make you leave. I should have…come back sooner!”

“Hey.” I leaned forward and poked at his shoulder with a finger. He looked to his shoulder but did nothing. “I get it. But you have to give me a proper burial, okay? I can’t stay here at the Lazaret. And not because I need a fancy funeral. Although…a western funeral would be preferable. With the songs, and the music. But…that is beside the point. Cremation is not part of our traditions anyway, so there is not much you can do. No. I need you…I need you to put this behind you. You, and Jules, and…Muriel. And the Countess!”

“Muriel?” Asra frowned. “What about Muriel?”

“Yes! Muriel! Take me to Muriel.” I growled at frustration. “Talking to you this way is irritating! Look. Just…get me out of here. And cry your tears. I will be back, I promise, Asra.” I touched a fingertip to Asra’s cheek. “I will be back, I promise. But I have to go now.”

Asra’s eyes saddened. “So you will be leaving now.”

“Yes! I’m leaving, so I can come back!” I frowned. This wasn’t working at all. He probably thought I was truly _leaving_ , that I was passing on. I thought. What could I do? What could I do to make him realize that I wasn’t going to go? How…

His bag.

I knew he always kept his deck in there. I pointed to the bag, knowing that every time I did this, I was expending energy I was never going to get back. But his attention was soon gained, and he reached into his bag. He lifted his hand…with a single card in tow.

He raised it up to his face, and in the dim light of the night, he saw what it was. The Star.

“A promise,” he said. “A promise of renewal. Have faith…” He blinked and curled his fingers about the card. His other arm held the skull close. “I don’t understand, Hani. But…I will trust you. I should have trusted you from the beginning, and I didn’t. I’ll…do as you ask. I’ll find Muriel and…this Doctor. And I’ll try to talk with the Countess.”

“And then come see me in the Arcana realm,” I said. I whispered it in his ear. I don’t know what he heard, but he blinked a bit. But it was my time to go. The door to the Arcana realm opened behind me, and I could feel The Fool waiting. I cast one last glance to Asra. He was an utter mess, covered in sand and dirt, clutching a skull and a card, and looking dazed, as if someone had just knocked him aside the head. “Do you think this will work?”

“Asra knows the rules of this more than any of your friends. He will sort it out. We have time.”

I stepped into the doorway, and then, we were gone.


	15. A Lonely Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't go according to plan.

Asra wrote letters.

There were three of them, addressed to the people I had mentioned. Letters telling them that there was to be a funeral for me. However, he did not send them because…he didn’t know how to get the letters to whom they were intended.

For Muriel, he had no idea where he was. Though Asra lurked in Vesuvia, he kept a low profile. He always kept his hair covered and his face partially covered, nomatter where he went. He lived off the palace coin left over in the shop, the remnants of the Doctor’s purse. He did not open the shop, and performed no readings. And though he searched the forest for Muriel, he did not spend too long out of doors.

Then, there was the Countess. Sending the letter to the palace invited trouble. He had no idea if the Countess would ever receive the letter, or if it would be intercepted. And he had no idea if the Countess would answer his plea at all. He’d never met her. He didn’t understand who she was at all. And the last thing he needed was for her to be aligned with the Count. She did marry him, after all.

Then, the Doctor. This figure was the most obscure for him. He had no clue who this person was at all. He’d never met him, and aside from _Doctor_ , he’d no idea who I was speaking of. He didn’t know where to find him, and he dared not ask around. He was aware of the plague doctors hovering in the plague-ridden parts of town, but his fear of them kept him away.

So the letters sat there as he tried to think of something to do, as did my remains. He’d at least put together a little coffin for them. He’d found a box somewhere in Auntie’s things, emptied it, and then spent a large amount of time decorating it. He lined it with colorful cloth. The outside, he painted blue, my favorite shade of it too. He then took up beads and trinkets and created a design on the lid. He placed my bones in there lovingly, and covered them with a silken handerchief.

And that was it.

I knew, as the days passed, that Asra was growing more anxious. He didn’t show it, but I could tell. The way he kept glancing at the little coffin. The way he peered out the windows. How he shuffled and dealt his deck over and over, hoping for different results. The cards had stopped talking to him as a result. They didn't know what to say in a way that he would accept, and his grief was muddying the results.

He was going to bolt.

I knew I had to step in, but at first, I didn’t know what to do. I _tried_ to talk to Asra, but even with Faust’s help, he was blind and deaf to my messages. He was still stuck in his grief, and didn’t believe my promise as much as I had hoped. Sometimes I’d show up to find him curled up in my bed, where he’d stay for hours without moving. Just…staring at the boxes with his things, which he had yet to unpack.

Asra was going to need help.

I thought of Muriel, his most trusted friend. But I did not know where he was, and without that desperate, sorrowful energy marking him so poignantly, I couldn’t place him. And the Doctor…well. He did not believe in magic as much as Asra. In fact, he didn’t believe it at all. Everything I showed him, he dismissed as parlor tricks and illusions of the eye. He'd try to come up with theories as to why I did what I did. His dismissal was given as easy as his love, and with the same amount of teasing jest. _The hand is quicker than the eye, and all such nonsense._

So he was out.

That left..the Countess.

I had no idea what she thought of magic, but she was worth a try. I left Asra and focused on her energy. For someone as stiff and unresponsive as she was to those around her, she was remarkably open with her energy. I found her instantly, and in a blink, I was within the palace. I was in a room with a large pool full of fragrant water, with floor to ceiling open windows draped with silken sheers. Cushions lined couches and benches.

And there was the Countess, sitting at the lip of the pool, dressed in a quite sheer bathing robe. She was rubbing her feet in the waters, and…thinking of something. Her thoughts were in Pakran, which I did not understand. But I could hear them, at least.

I looked about. Everything was quite lavish, and even though the room was of Vesuvian architecture, it was obvious that she had placed a Pakran touch upon it all. I tried to touch a blue pillow that was beaded with gold. “I wonder if this is what Pakra is really like…”

There came a gasp, and then a splash.

I whirled about to see the Countess flail in the water of the bath, as she had fallen in. Her eyes, wide and rimmed in white, focused directly on me. She sputtered and pulled herself below the lip of the pool, her fingers curled on it…and then peered over it, again, directly at me.

“Can…can you see me?” I motioned to myself.

“H…Hani!” The Countess’s voice came out in a whisper. Her intricate hairstyle was now a wet mess upon her head.

“You can hear me! You can see me!” I laughed and stepped forward, which caused her to duck out of sight. “No, no no no! It’s okay! It’s me! It’s Hani! You remember me, right?”

“I remember that you are dead!” Her fingers disappeared from the pool’s edge, and I could hear her swimming to the end of the pool that was farthest from me. Her head poked up again before her arm reached up to grab towel from a stack of folded ones there. She hurriedly stepped from the pool and wrapped herself in it, all the while keeping her eyes on me.

I blinked as she retreated to the far end of the room, her back against the wall. But there was no door there. She’d trapped herself, but didn’t seem to notice. “Countess, please…I am not here to harm you.”

“Then…what are you here for?”

“I’ve come to ask you a favor.”

“A…a favor?” She blinked and tried to regain some composure despite the fright that caused her to tremble. Her hand flitted over her hair before she straightened herself up and jutted her chin up like she had the night she had given me the guard’s keys. “What could you possibly need from me?”

“I have a friend, in town. And he needs to do something, but…he is so grief-stricken that he cannot complete the task. I…he is so afraid, Countess…and I am afraid I can do nothing for him in my current…situation.” I motioned to myself. I suddenly became distracted by a thought. “How…is it that I look to you? Am I solid, or can you see through me? Or…am I some sort of shrouded ghoul, like those ghost mimes in the plays…?”

“You look like yourself.” The Countess was beginning to calm. “Which was why…I started as I did! We’d learned that you had died, and, well, my husband was quite…upset.”

I raised a brow. “He was?”

“In the loss of his magician, of course. And then…there are others who are much more…beside themselves with grief.”

“Jules.” I looked away and bit my lip. “How…how is he?”

“I am not sure. Lucio has consigned him back to the clinic. I’ve not seen him in…weeks. Since before you…well…you know…” She fiddled her fingers against themselves. “Hani…as you can probably surmise, I am able to see and hear things others cannot. And…I am not fond of these gifts. They’ve brought me much trouble in my life. I thought I had shut these…powers, or what have you, down. Long ago. So. For me to see you…it must be very important. And...as such...I'd appreciate it if you...got on with asking me for this favor.”

"I see. I did not mean to cause you unease, Countess."

"Yes. Well. I am sure it is understandable."

"I do..." I turned away. "I'm sorry. Um...I didn't even think of how you'd react. Forgive me."

"It's...forgiven." She tightened the towel about herself. I suddenly realized another reason for her discomfort.

"I didn't see anything! I swear!"

The Countess regarded me for a long moment, but then allowed herself to relax the tiniest of bits. "I guess...I can't exactly berate you for not knocking. How...did you even get in?"

I shrugged. "I just wanted to find you and...showed up."

"How convenient."

"Again, I'm...I'm sorry. I'll even...turn around." I did so.

"That won't be necessary." I turned a raised brow to her. She took a hesitant step away from the wall, and slowly made her way over. Her path took her in a wide circle about me, before she haltingly sat herself upon one of the benches. I went over but kept a respectable distance. I didn’t want to spook her more than I already had.

"Now. About that favor."

“Yes.” I sighed. “My friend. I…need you to go to him. He has a message for you. And for the Doctor.” I left out Muriel.

“Then why does he not just send the messages here?”

“Your husband is not his friend. To give anyone in the palace any inkling that he is even in Vesuvia…it would put his life in great danger.”

“So he is a fugitive then.”

I scratched at my head.

“I see. So you need me to not only get the message intended for me, but the one intended for the Doctor as well.”

“Yes.”

“Which means engaging with a known fugitive. Behind my husband’s back.”

“Yes.”

“Such a thing is treason, Hani.”

“Ah…I understand that. You needn’t say yes, if you fear for your…”

“Well.” The Countess straightened her wet robe upon her knees. “I’ve already committed treason once for you, Hani. I suppose at this point, caution isn’t a factor in our relationship.” She smiled, her smile edging close to a smirk. “Tell me where to find your friend.”

“At my shop. I don’t know if he will be there. But…there are three letters there, on the counter. One is for you, and one is for the Doctor.”

“And the third?”

I hesitated.

“If I am playing messenger, Hani, I might as well perform my part to completion.”

“Muriel. But no one knows where he is.”

“Oh. Him. I know where he is.”

“You…you do?”

“Yes. He…stuck around Vesuvia for some reason, but kept on the move. He stumbled upon one of the back entrances to the palace’s gardens once, when I was there. I followed him to where he was going…mostly because I was curious. I told him I’d helped to get him free. He told me not to tell anybody I’d seen him and…well. It seems that I am now his grocer.”

I blinked, then laughed. “Truly?”

She gave a small giggle. “Every day that I know he is free, the better I feel in being married to that miserable narcissist. It pleases me to see him drive himself insane looking for your friend. He truly does dislike losing.” Her smile wavered. “And if his desire to have the last word in all things extends to your _other_ friend, I can see where he has troubles in completing this task. I will go.”

I grinned and stepped forward, then remembered I could not hug anyone. I tried to play it off, but she had noticed.

“What is it, Hani?”

“Being a ghost is quite lonely,” I said. “When I speak, no one hears me. No one sees me, and no one can feel me.” I looked to my hands. “Is this what it means, to be dead? I had taken…so much of my life for granted then. How would I have ever known that the last time I…did anything, it would be the last? I embrace someone. I laugh with them. I cannot...feel anything. It is less that I am dead and more that this world is dead to me. I cannot…I cannot live for eternity in this way.”

“Will completing this task help you?”

“Yes. I mean, I think so. To be perfectly honest, this task is mostly for everyone else.” I lowered my hands. “Although I am not quite sure why.” I tried a small smile. “Anyway. It doesn’t matter so much. Please…my friend will be at my shop. If he isn’t there, and the door is locked…there’s a back window with a tricky latch. You may be able to get in that way.”

“You want me to break into your shop?” The Countess blinked. “Oh my. Well. With your permission, I suppose it isn't a crime, then?”

I smiled. “Thanks, Countess.”

“Please, Hani. Call me Nadia. Enough people in here call me Countess.”

“Then, thank you, Nadia.”

She smiled. And then, I was gone.

 

…

 

I did not go with Nadia to the shop, but I saw the aftermath. Asra looked for the three letters. He checked under the counter, in the shelves. He checked the door, and saw that he did lock it. Apparently, the Countess had managed to get in through the window when Asra was there, in bed. She’d come and taken the letters, and had left.

Asra cursed himself for being so stupid as to leave the letters out where they could be found. He began to pack his bag again, and prepared to flee, in case those letters made their way to the palace guards. Or worse, Lucio. I knew this much about his thoughts, as he muttered them now and again.

His grief was undoing him, little by little.

I’d never seen him in the state he was. His hair, unkempt. When he did not style it when wet, it curled up wildly. I’d never seen him unshaven before, but I did now. He did not eat. He did not sleep. And now, his lack of rest was playing tricks with his thoughts.

The day he prepared to leave, a letter was shoved under the door. He looked to it and…stared. For a great while. His eyes looked this way and that, and he listened, perhaps for whoever had brought it. Were they still there?

Finally, he edged closer and took it up. The seal was magenta in color, with the face of an owl pressed into it. He carefully lifted the seal and read the letter.

_Your presence is requested at the palace, in two nights hence, for the funeral of Hani, a friend beloved by many, treasured by us chosen few, but all with a love greater than could be imagined. Signed, Countess Nadia_

Asra blinked and looked to the door. He raced to it and unlocked it, but when he peered outside, no one was there. He slowly retreated inside and went to go sit at the table in the back room, and read the letter again. And again.

He fell asleep there, with the letter in his hand, and that is where I left him.

 

…

 

The night of the funeral was dark with only the light of a sliver of a waxing moon upon a blanket of stars to add a bluish glow to the gardens. I was already in the garden, waiting, but kept myself out of sight of even the Countess herself.

She, as the impromptu organizer of the funeral, had been busy. There was already a hole dug at the roots of a large tree, and I had to admit it was a beautiful little spot. The gardens were devoid of guards. The Countess stood there, waiting.

“I hope your friends are more trusting that I would be in this situation,” she murmured. “I know I am asking much of them to come to the palace but…Lucio is gone tonight. I…” She stopped talking, as someone was coming up the path.

It was Asra.

He was clean, his hair properly styled. He’d opted to brush it forward to curl off his forehead. His cheeks were cleanshaven. He wore a blue tunic and trousers, and a white shawl about his shoulders. In his hands was the little coffin. He looked to the Countess and gave the place a quick but nervous look-over.

“The guards are all gone, if…that is what you are afraid of.” The Countess stepped forward. “I’ve taken great measures to make sure we will not be disturbed.”

Asra didn’t reply. He took Nadia in. She wore layers of turquoise, and had opted for a very relaxed braided hairstyle. For her, at least. The circlet at her brow was simple gold. Her shoulders were wrapped in a fine lace capelet that was held together with a glimmering moonstone crystal clasp.

“I apologize for breaking into your shop…”

“Its Hani’s shop,” Asra said softly. “And…its alright. Now that I see what it was for.” He shook his head and set down the little coffin. He touched the edge of the hole, then looked up into the leaves of the tree. A slight breeze shook the leaves as if in greeting. “How did you know where to find the letters?”

“Hani told me.”

Asra’s eyes snapped to hers. “You…can hear him?”

“And see him.”

“Is…is he…”

“He’s here. Over there, actually.” The Countess pointed to me. I cursed myself and tried to sink into the foliage I had thought was good cover. “He thinks he’s hiding.”

“Don’t tell him that!” I hissed.

“My apologies. Apparently you weren’t supposed to know he was here.”

Asra’s eyes fell from the spot where I stood. He rose to his feet. “Thank you…for doing this, then. Although there were supposed to be two others…”

Heavy steps crunched in the planters of the garden behind them. The plants parted to allow a huge form to come stepping through. Muriel, now with shorter cropped hair and his attire changed from gladiator to…something that looked like it was pieced together from bits of garments he’d found, peered at the two of them for a moment, and stood there, unmoving. “Asra? Is that you?”

“Muriel…!” Asra forgot his grief for a moment and ran over to embrace his friend. It was almost comical, their difference in size. Muriel awkwardly returned the embrace, as if he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right. Asra let him go and cupped his friend’s face with his hands…before they landed on Muriel’s collar.

“I can’t get it off,” Muriel said. “Its…magic.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Asra said softly. He stepped away and led Muriel over to the tree. Muriel looked as if he would rather be anywhere else in the world, but that was nothing new for him. He hunkered down near the roots of the tree and waited.

“And the fourth person?” Asra said, returning his gaze to the Countess.

She looked about, and peered down a few of the trails leading to this spot, but no one was there. “I feared this might happen. You see, he is…”

“The Doctor?”

“Yes. He is…very busy. And…” Her eyes met Asra’s. “Hani’s death has been particularly hard on him.”

“Should we wait?”

“I suppose. But we cannot wait all night.”

Something moved further down the path from where we stood. The others kept conversing, as if they had not heard it. I looked down the path, and thought I saw someone moving away. I gave the others one last glance before I ran off towards the movement…

To see Jules softly but swiftly moving away.

He looked terrible, although he’d cleaned himself up from whatever mess he was in before he’d shown up. The circles about his eyes were dark, and I could tell he hadn’t slept in quite a while. He made it perhaps ten more paces before he stopped and thought better of it, and turned back. Twenty paces, and his mind convinced him not to go. He turned again, then again.

His hands came up to rub at his face. “I can’t do this…” he murmured. “I can’t see them…put him in…”

“Countess!” I yelled it. “We’ve got a runner!”

Jules didn’t hear me at all. He went to rest a hand against a wall, and then rested his forehead against it as well. I saw a tear drip down his cheek. His hand fisted against the stones of the wall before he pushed off it and headed back the way he came. By that time, however, the Countess and Asra were already headed down the path, causing him to whirl about, bewildered.

“Where are you going, Doctor?” The Countess asked as she crossed her arms.

“I can’t do this, Nadia,” Jules said. More tears stained his cheeks. His expression reminded me of Asra, stuck within sorrow on the beaches of the Lazaret. His fingers came up to absently clutch at his shirt above his heart. Asra made a small sound, gaining my attention. Realization was dawning on his face. His lips parted, and I knew. I knew that he knew of us. Of me. And Jules.

A new grief crossed his face, albeit briefly. It hardened to something else, but neither Jules or Nadia seemed to notice.

“I can’t…”

Nadia’s hand softly grabbed up Jules’s own. “I know it is hard, Doctor. But Hani deserves this. He deserves to have us all here. For him.”

Jules only shook his head. “He deserves better than me, Nadia.”

“He deserved better than all of us,” Asra said. “We all failed him, where he did not fail us. You are not unique in your guilt…or your grief.” He eyed Jules, then turned and headed back down the path, leaving us to stand there. Nadia looked to me, then to Jules.

“Tell him…I would want him here,” I said.

“You know that Hani would want you here,” Nadia said softly.

“But…”

“Doctor…” Nadia drew in closer. She brushed away one of the tears with a thumb, but he looked away. “It is so hard what we must do. But we must do it. If you leave now, I know the guilt you feel will only grow. And he is right. We are…all guilty in this. We have all let Hani down. We cannot do it again.”

I reached up to try and brush away the hair that got into Jules’s face, but my hand passed through the auburn locks. I sighed. Nadia mimicked my motion, however, and gave Jules a small smile when his eyes met hers.

He allowed himself to be led down the path towards the tree, even if he hesitated once more when he spied the hole and the casket. Nadia kept her hand in his the entire way, however.

Muriel did not give Jules anything in the form of a greeting. Asra didn’t look at him at all. They all stood about the hole, not sure what to do. Julian looked as if he would bolt if Nadia did not hold him there. Muriel curled in on himself, his back nearly to them all. Asra stood there, his form rigid with another one of his unreadable emotions.

“This should not have happened,” Jules said softly.

“No, it shouldn’t have,” Asra said.

Nadia nervously looked to me as I stood between the two.

“Let them know that this is what I wanted,” I said. “To see them all again.”

Nadia swallowed, then cleared her throat. “I…know it may be hard to believe for some of you, but…Hani asked for me to make sure this happened.” She played with a finger as all eyes turned to her. “I…can see him. Hear him. Right now. Um…” She closed her eyes and found her resolve. “He wanted to see us all, once more. I…”

I began to speak, and she easily changed the words to her own. “He loved us. All of us.” Asra looked away. Jules did as well. Their eyes met, and quickly looked away from each other at the same time. “He understands that grief is natural, and you will feel it no matter what happens but…” She frowned and blinked before turning her eyes to me.

I nodded. “Go on. Say it.”

“He says…he says there’s a way for him to come back.”

Three sets of eyes looked to her, but her eyes were on me. Asra turned to where I stood, but I knew he did not see me.

“A spell. Some sort of…ritual. But he will need our help. All our help. And he knows that we will do whatever we can to make it happen, but this must happen first.”

“What sort of spell?” Asra said, stepping forward. “There is no spell that can bring back the dead, Countess.”

She held up her hands in defense. “I am not sure! But he says…”

“I…am not in the mind to tolerate talk of spells and rituals at the moment,” Jules said. He rubbed his hand over his forehead and through his hair. He let his hand drop. It shook at his side. “I don’t think it is respectful to play at this at a _funeral_ …”

“I agree,” Muriel said. He turned his eyes back out into the darkness. “I’ve had my fill of magic.”

Nadia’s resolve began to falter. “E…even so…”

This wasn’t working. They were supposed to be drawn together in this. They were supposed to find _comfort_ in this. But…it had gone all wrong. They were all still…stuck behind who they were. Nadia’s fear and water-thin confidence. Jule’s guilt and indecision. Asra’s grief and distrust. And Muriel…Muriel’s _everything_.

I blinked. “This isn’t going to work. Just…just bury me. I no longer care…if you all cannot see beyond yourselves to care about me!”

I don’t know what I did, but the four of them were suddenly subject to a swift breeze that took us all by surprise. Nadia was pressed briefly against the tree trunk, her hold on Jules's hand forgotten. Jules's shoulders stiffened, and the shawl wrapped about Asra's shoulders threatened to unwind itself. Muriel covered his head in his arms and hands.

The lid to the casket was blown off, along with a corner of the cloth that covered my remains. One empty eye socket looked up at them all.

Jules stepped back, his eyes wide.

Asra hurried to pick up the lid and replace it. He looked to Nadia, who gave a shudder from her position at the tree, her eyes pressed shut. “What happened, Countess?”

“He’s…” She opened her eyes slowly, and looked about, but the doorway had already appeared, and I was already stepping through. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘he’s gone’?” Asra went over to her and grabbed her shoulder. She looked to him and pulled away. “Where is he? What happened?”

“He got angry,” Nadia said. “And then…now I cannot see him anymore.”

I turned away from their bewildered expressions. I couldn’t stand to see them anymore. Not Asra, who was there but…not. Not Nadia, not Muriel, who were but strangers to me, I now realized. And not…not Jules.

Not Jules, who turned away from all of them and began to walk away.

“I don’t know what you hoped to happen,” I said to the Fool. He waited just inside of the door. “But it didn’t work.”

“It didn’t?” The Fool peered out of the door and took them all in, including Jules’s retreating back. “Well, I cannot say I had any expectations but…I figured it would go something like this.”

“Then why? I don’t care about a funeral!” I motioned to the casket that Muriel was now lowering into the hole. “They could have left me at the Lazaret. The result would the same. A lonely little burial.”

“But now they know each other. They’ve begun their own path, with each other.”

“Another crossroads?”

“No, not really.” The Fool shrugged. “The powers that they mirror are…different from mine. This was a gamble, but…the other Arcana can be quite predictable. You remember who they are, right?”

“Yes. The Magician, The Hanged Man, and The High Priestess.” I blinked. “That’s what those cards meant? Then…what about Muriel?”

“What other Arcana would do its best to hide from you?”

“The Hermit!”

“Of course!”

We shared a grin.

I stepped all the way through the door, and it sealed shut behind me. I began to feel all the anger and sorrow that came with that realm melt away, along with my grip over the memories. At least, this time, I knew what to expect. “Now what?”

The Fool shrugged. “Nothing, I think. They’ll handle themselves.”

I looked back to the door, but it had disappeared, and was replaced with a vista of a wildflower stained desert plain. We were hiking along a saguaro lined trail leading towards towering buttes in the distance. The galaxy spiraled above us, casting dancing colors upon the trail. “You know what I would like to see?”

“What’s that?”

“What happens when Jules and Asra realize who each other is. Are? Is?”

“Oh? That doesn’t happen for some time, for them.”

“How long for us?”

“Well, right now if you wish.”

I smirked and looped my arm about The Fool’s. “Well now. There’s no time like the vague present.”

The Fool smiled, and a doorway opened before us. I flashed the Fool another grin before jumping through.


	16. A Pleasant Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucio gets his magician back.

I landed in the middle of the shop to find myself surrounded by what looked to be every single book I owned, as well as every book for sale in the shop, open and laid out on the floorboards. Asra sat at the center of a little path he’d created to the stairs – which also held books – and to the back room, which, I am sure, also held books. Candles were lit everywhere, as it was night, and he’d evem brought the outside lantern in for more light.

He was drawing symbols on parchment, and crumpled discards littered nearly every surface. I went over and peered at what he was drawing. It had an element of the Fool's true symbol, but was nowhere close to it. He knew it, too. He cursed softly and his fingers scrunched the page under his palm.

I saw now what he was trying to do. He knew that there was no spell or ritual that could bring back the dead, so he was trying to piece together other spells and rituals to make his own. It was the right way to approach it…but I could still see that he was way off to the true ritual. Our library, and his knowledge, was too limited.

“The palace library is much bigger,” I suggested. He picked up a book and began thumbing through the pages. “With much more knowledge regarding what you’re trying to find.”

He didn’t reply. He read a few pages before sighing and gently shutting it. He looked much better than the last time I’d seen him. He’d eaten, and he was keeping himself up. He still looked…sorrowful. I missed that gentle smile he always gave. His tender stare.

“You look well,” I said. “I’m glad. I missed seeing you like this. I…waited at the beach. But you never came. I know its…hard for you…”

“I know you’re here, Hani, and I know you’re talking,” Asra said. “My ears ring when you do. But I can’t hear you, and Faust…” He looked over his shoulder. Faust poked her head out from under a pile of papers that rested on a shelf. “Human language isn’t her strongest suit anyway.” She stuck her tongue out in response.

I knelt next to him and gently focused my energy to my fingers. I placed them…or rather, hovered them on his skin, on his forearm. He looked to the touch. “I wonder what it feels like,” I said softly. “I can’t feel you. I spent…so much time being angry with you, Asra. And now that…I’m like this, I think…perhaps I should have spent that time happy that we had happened at all. I was so...stubborn. I wanted you to come back to me, and yet I never thought to look for you instead. I mean _really_ look for you.” I traced my fingers up his arm to where his sleeves were cuffed. “Memories of you are hard to come by these days. What we could have made...”

“I can only imagine what you’re saying,” Asra said. “And imagination…tends to tap into intuition.” He breathed out a shaky breath and did his best to center himself. I could tell that he was still struggling with grief, but it was not as bad as it had been before. He breathed in deep and tipped his chin up, exposing his neck with that ever-present gold choker of his. He waited.

“Where…did you go?” I asked. This would be easier to do in the Arcana realm, but with the way I tended to just…slip into the Fool’s energy, I doubt I’d be able to even ask that question.

“I was looking for my parents,” Asra said. He sighed. “I didn’t find them. I think I was close, but…it became too hard. By the time I gave…decided to retreat to rest…well, that’s when I saw you on the beach.”

I shifted so that I knelt facing him, my weight on one arm. I reached up and, with a moment’s hesitation, pressed my fingers to the skin above his heart. He started, his eyes flying open. “I missed you, Asra.”

His hand reached up to touch his chest, his fingers going right through mine. He bit his lip, then began shutting books and sorting papers. “You missed me enough to move on.” He shut a book a little too hard. “To pack up my things. I wonder how long it took for you to do that.”

“A year.”

“It…” His hands stilled on a book. Diagrams were pictured in it. He had been trying to glean parts of the diagrams to make his own. “I’m…sure you waited a long time. Maybe months. For me to come back.” His brief anger eased. “What am I saying, Hani? Of course you moved on. How could I ever expect you to wait for me, after how I left?” He scoffed at himself. “I didn’t even stop to _think_  of what you'd do. Of how it would hurt you. How… _selfish_ of me, as if…you belonged to me, and could only be what I wanted, even when I was not here.” He shut the book.

“If it makes you feel better, I did resist him a bit. Quite a lot, actually.” I smirked. I don’t think he heard me.

“I’ve wronged you. And I don’t know what I am doing but I think if there’s some possibility that I could make it right…I’d do anything.” He looked over the mess. “I must be missing something.”

“Yes. You are. You can’t do this alone. It is going to take all four of you. And, you will need to go to the palace library.”

He looked about, then got up and went to the staircase. There, I recognized his books, the ones he’d brought from his little dock home. The books were older than both of us, with faded gold printed titles on the covers. He flipped through a few, forgetting that I was there.

I bit my lip. “Asra. You have to go to the palace. Whatever problem you have with the Count, you need to figure a way around it.”

He continued thumbing through the book. I went over and flipped the book out of his hands. It didn’t go flying as I had hoped, but I did manage to knock it from his grip. He fumbled with it, then looked about. I poked him in the shoulder. “Did you forget I was here?”

“Sorry, Hani. I know you have something important to say.”

“This isn’t like you, Asra. You remind me of…” I shook my head. Asra was obsessing over the possibility of there being a spell. I knelt on the steps and touched my hand to his, wrapping it about his own on the book. “Asra. I need you to focus. Focus on me.”

Asra stared down at his hand. I touched the fingers of my other hand to his face, tracing them down his cheekbone and jaw. He shut his eyes and…leaned into it. Or tried to. There was nothing to lean into. There. There was the Asra I missed. His lips parted gently, and he became that soothing, steady presence I knew him to be. I raised my fingers to his ear. “Listen to me, Asra.”

“I’m listening.”

“You have to go to the palace library.”

His eyes opened immediately. The quietness in him was gone. “No.”

“You must!”

Asra shook his head and stood, and walked right through me. He shuddered.

“How rude!" I brushed at myself. I didn’t feel it, but it rubbed me the wrong way anyway.

“I can’t go there, Hani. The Count has marked me a wanted man, for treason. If I go, he will _force_ me to use my magic to _his_ end!”

“Such as ending the plague?” I shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”

“And…” Asra hugged his arms to himself. “How can I go back there? Willingly?”

“It is better to go willingly than to be dragged there in chains.” I thought of my being held in the cell, below the coliseum. How I was forced into servitude. “Have some control over it. You cannot hide here forever, Asra. He will find you out. You tried to warn me about him ages ago and I didn’t listen. But I know what kind of man he is now. You have to stay one step ahead. _You_ have to be in control. Make him think he is, but you will be the one calling the shots.”

Asra glanced up at me, and for a moment I thought he did see me. But it was a random coincidence. He thought on it, I could see that. He wasn’t stupid, and I knew that, out of anyone, he would do something. He was quicker at weighing his options than Jules. A few moments ticked by, and then he ran upstairs. I heard him moving stuff around, and I realized he was tearing into the boxes of his things. I heard him hop on one foot. Something hitting the ground, something light. Like a shoe.

He came back down wearing a vest and roomy trousers, plus a colorful shawl. His feet were covered by short boots. He grabbed his bag, which he packed with his deck, a notebook full of his progress, a few books…and Faust, who he gently plucked from per place on the paper-strewn shelving behind the counter. He grabbed up a cloak with a hood, and I realized he was doing his best to look strong.

“Where was this outfit when I was alive, Asra?” I motioned to him, but he was busy slinging the strap of his bag over his head and shoulder. He went to the door and undid the locks, then undid the protection spell there, opened it…and waited.

“Are you coming?” he asked. He looked back into the room, his eyes searching for my form, as if I’d suddenly make myself known. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. All the candles extinguished. The light of the lamp slowly diminished, then it, too, was snuffed.

 

…

 

I next found myself in a dining room. The palace dining room, by the looks of it. A long table draped in fine linens was there, and sconces and candles kept the place warmly lit. There was a large meal placed there…even though it was only for one.

Lucio.

He didn’t seem to mind his lack of company for dinner. His attention was taken by a few papers he was reading. He absently picked at his food between paragraphs. His golden hand was ruffling the soft white fur of a large hound at his feet. Another like it slept under the table.

As soon as I was there, however, the sleeping hound woke. Both turned to stare at me, their long ears pricked in attention. Lucio paid them no mind, however, and reshuffled his papers.

One of the hounds began to growl. It rose from under the table and started inching towards me. Of course, out of all the creatures that could see me, it would be the Count’s eerie looking - but very fancy - dogs.

“Mecedes,” Lucio chastised without looking up. “Silence.”

Mercedes ignored him. The hound crept forward once more, and its snarl deepened. Its lips peeled away from its teeth, and its hackles raised.

“Mercedes!” Lucio looked up and put down his reading. He didn’t seem to see me at all, and his attention was on the dog. The hound swiveled its ears to its master but still stood there, staring at me. “Leave it. Lie down!”

Mercedes gave up the snarl with a small whine, but obeyed the commands. The hound circled about Lucio and slowly sank into a lying down position. Its head dropped between its paws, but I was not fooled in thinking it had given up on its mark. Both hounds kept their eyes and ears on me.

Lucio looked towards me, but the way his eyes searched told me he did not see me. “What is it anyway? Do you hear a rat or something?” He waved it off in dismissal and returned his eyes to his meal. He looked to the blank setting by his side and pursed his lips a bit. “Where the hell is Noddy?” He turned to the servant’s entrance. “What is taking her so long?”

He was expecting a servant to come in, perhaps ready to snivel and give excuses, but instead, two guards came in. Between them was a man. Asra.

The Count blinked, the only outward sign he gave of being caught in surprise. 

“This one insisted on an audience with you, Sir,” one of the guards said. “When we told him he would be arrested for disturbing your peace, he insisted that we arrest him.”

Lucio leaned back in his seat, and his head against a few poised fingers. He took Asra in, and despite the shawl and cloak and…general air of aggression uncharacteristic to the magician…Lucio’s smile cracked into a grin. “Well, well. Isn’t this a pleasant surprise. My magician has returned to me.”

Asra tried to shrug off the guards, but their grip was strong on his arms. He didn’t bother asking them to back off. He sent off a simple spell that pushed them away from him, and in their surprise, they let him go. Asra’s expression was unlike any other I’d seen on him. If I could place a label on it, I’d call it cold and stoic hatred.

Lucio chuckled and waved off the guards. They retreated to just beyond the servant’s doorway. Lucio and Asra looked at each other for a long moment. The frown on Asra’s face deepened, while the grin on Lucio’s face widened. I waited for someone to break, but theirs was a game I was not familiar with. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Come to ask for another favor?”

“No. There’s nothing you can do for me.”

“Then why bother? Hungry?” Lucio motioned to the seat to his left. “You do remember how things went, right? I’ll have them bring up…”

“My…apprentice died while under your command.”

“The little magician?” Lucio waved in dismissal. “He was working off a debt.”

“Is everyone about you indebted to you? Your calls for repayment outweigh the so-called transgressions they committed. Or your 'favors.'”

“He committed treason.”

“I did not!”

“I doubt that was the case,” Asra said. He circled about the hound closest to him. The dog looked up at him briefly, but their attentions were still on me.

“So what do you wish for me to do? Do you want recompense?” The Count shrugged. “I’ll have someone bring up a purse…”

“No,” Asra went over and forcefully put his hands on the table. The silverware jumped a bit on their napkins. Lucio’s wine swirled in his glass. “I want to know what was so important that it required my apprentice’s death.”

“Your apprentice? From what I remember, he was the doctor’s apprentice. The little magician worked the clinic. Came up with some silly theory that bugs were causing the plague. And then, he got the plague, and died.” Lucio shrugged. “Quaestor Valdemar examined him personally, and found no bites. So. It was a waste, really.” He paused. “Pity.”

“I want to see the report.”

“Report?”

“On Hani’s autopsy.”

Lucio’s eyes narrowed as Asra stared him down. His mouth quirked, and then he relented, his demeanor as casual as ever. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

“And all of Hani’s research.”

“Its yours.”

“And…why? Why would you give it to me so easily?”

“Because I assume you wish to continue the research. To be perfectly honest with you, I wasn’t pleased with Hani’s prowess in the magical arts. He could never hold a candle to you.” I scoffed. “But I had to settle, what, with you…on vacation?”

Asra’s fingers curled on the tabletop, pulling at the linen.

“And…you _will_ be continuing his research.” Lucio smirked. “An autopsy report is a small price to pay.”

Asra shoved off from the table and crossed his arms.

“Please, sit,” Lucio motioned to the table. A servant ducked in, and Lucio motioned for more food. Asra reluctantly took his seat, and soon found a plate of spiced fish with grilled greens and vegetables set before him. Warm brown bread was placed to the side, along with a crock of apple butter, and a bowl of red soup. “It’s Nadia’s favorite. I had hoped she’d join us today but…her headaches.” Lucio rolled his eyes. A servant poured Asra wine. Asra looked it all over as if he’d rather not touch any of it. “Well?”

“I want to know more about what you want from me.”

“Research, like I said. I made a mistake of sending Hani to the clinic. I closed it down anyway. Turns out, it wasn’t actually doing any good for anybody. Obviously, since your little apprentice got himself killed there. Or…he died. Because of the plague.” Lucio waved the thought away and took a drink of his own wine. “No. We need to find a cure. My doctors have been working on trying to find one for years, but they’re all…scientific in their ways of thinking. I had hoped that Hani’s expertise with magic could find something they could not. And all he could come up with is _bugs_.”

“There were bugs,” I muttered. “Red beetles.”

“I’d like you to work with my best doctor, Doctor Devorak. He’s an odd duck, but for some reason he’s outlived everyone else working on this, Valdemar being the only exception. He has strange ideas about washing and cleaning and burning. Most of his allowance goes to how fast he goes through uniforms and gloves, but that’s his business. Look, Asra, if you aren’t going to eat…”

Asra picked up a fork and stabbed at the fish. He took a bite, then let the fork down again. “Go on.”

Lucio sighed. “Still sore about that business with the Scourge, are you?”

“If you are going to try to press me as to his whereabouts, don’t bother. I haven’t seen him since I left.” Asra sighed and took up his wine. Lucio watched as he downed the whole thing. The servant rushed in to refill it, but Asra took the bottle from him before he could leave, and began working on the second glass. “He’s long gone, and I don’t blame him.”

“Much like you were, hmm?”

Asra paused before he poured himself another glass. “Yes.”

Lucio watched the red liquid pour from the bottle. “You know, you could give Consul Valerius a run for his money if this is how you drink now.”

“When do I meet your doctor, Lucio?” Asra took his time with the third glass. If I was expecting the alcohol to calm him, I was wrong.

“Right now, if you’d like.”

Asra set down his glass and stood.

Lucio studied him for a moment, then motioned for the guards. “Take him to the library. Have quarters set up for him. He and the doctor will be working closely together.” He then waved Asra away.

Asra followed the guards out of the room, but not without a disgusted backwards glance to the Count. Lucio paid him no mind at all, however, and returned to his food and reading.

I hurried to follow Asra out, but, again, as soon as I decided I wanted to be at the library, I was there. I stood between shelves of books, in dim lighting. Most of the lights were out, and the place was dark. I peeked out to see that no one was there, not even Jules. Moonlight bathed the desk in pale light from the window, illuminating stacks of papers and books that overflowed from the desk to the floor surrounding it. The mess reminded me of Asra’s work in my shop.

I went over and looked over what papers I could see, and saw…drawings much like Asra’s work. Symbols. Notes on magical theories and incantations. I frowned. Jules was…studying magic? I touched one of the pages and traced the symbol there. He’d found another element needed, but like Asra’s work, it was not complete.

The door began to open, and I could hear the complicated lock working. Asra’s figure stepped inside when it was all the way open, and then it shut, sealing him inside much like when I had first come here. He looked about and pulled the cloak from his shoulders to sling it over one arm.

Light was summoned to his fingertips, then flew to the many candles and lamps about the place. The desk had the most concentration of them, and it gained his attention quickly. He crossed the room and stood near to me. The symbols on the papers caught his eye, so he left his cloak on the Doctor's chair and leaned over the desk to study them. He had the ability to move them, however, and quickly began to shuffle through them. “He’s trying to find the symbol…”

Something moved, off to the side. Something large was sliding into place, like a door. I remembered the bookcase that led down to the dungeons, but Asra had no idea of knowing what it was. He waited as someone neared, and relaxed minutely when Jules came into view.

They stood and stared at eat other from across the room. Asra kept his face neutrally stern. Jule’s face was much more open. His eyes were wide for a moment, just in surprise in seeing someone there. But, realization worked its way through his expression, and it came to mirror Asra’s own. He walked over to the desk and snatched the papers away. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been sent by the Count to help you with your research.”

Jules eyed him, then set the papers aside, on another stack. “I don’t need any help.”

“It looks like you might…”

“And I don’t want your help, Asra.”

Asra quieted.

“Don’t think I haven’t worked out who you are,” Jules said, leaning upon his palms, which were flat on the desk. “How convenient that you wish to help. Now.”

Asra’s composure did not falter. “I saw that you were trying to work out the spell. For…for Hani. That is why…”

“Hocus pocus _nonsense_.” Jules pushed off from the desk.

“You seem quite invested in magical diagrams for it to be nonsense,” Asra reached over and pushed a page aside. More diagrams were drawn on the page underneath. “You believe in it more than you let on. You want this spell to be real as much as I do. You want Hani back as much as I do.”

Jules had turned away, and had paced a bit. He wheeled back on Asra, his finger pointing. “I think I may want it more than you, Asra.”

Asra balked. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know very well what it means. How dare you come here. After everything he has suffered. Because of you!”

Asra’s hands fisted at his sides, then relaxed, only to clench again. “I know very well the pain I have caused him. I have suffered with the guilt and grief for months. I needn’t have _you_ remind me.”

“In Hani’s absence, I think I am the perfect one to remind you. Do you know that he waited for you? For over a _year_. He told me about how he thought, at any moment, you'd come back. He told me that, no matter that...he'd find it in himself to forgive you, but you never came back. You left, as if he didn't even matter! Sometimes I saw him crying and…”

“You forgot about him!” Asra burst out. He stepped forward, hesitating only briefly in his outburst. “He was sick, and you didn’t even know! You were supposed to be his mentor! You were…supposed to take care of him!” It was his turn to plant his hands on the desk between them. A stack of papers collapsed due to the motion, and a portion of the stack slid to the floor. Papers flew out across the ground, sliding across each other to spread out in a mess.

Jules blinked, and I realized that this hit him hard. He knew he had been engrossed in his work, and had not thought to come down to the clinic. I did not fault him in this…but I did think…it took nearly a whole week for someone to come for me. Jules fought to keep me at the palace but…I still died alone.

They both spoke, again, at the same time, the same words. “If not for you, he would not be dead!”

Jules raised a finger towards Asra as if to make another point, but he had no argument. He turned away and ran his hands through his hair.

Asra’s face was frozen in anger, and he slowly let it relax, as if realizing what he had just said. He blinked and turned his eyes away, his hands coming up to cover his mouth briefly before they covered his eyes. “I…Doctor…”

Jules had made his way almost halfway to the bookcases. I knew he wasn’t trying to get away. He was going to do that pacing thing he did when his thoughts wrestled with each other in his mind. He let one arm drop, and the other followed suit shortly. He buried his hands in his pockets.

“It seems we are both equally horrible people,” Jules murmured. “And like you said…equal in our guilt and grief.”

Asra’s attentions were on the pages that had spilled at his feet. He regained a bit of himself and knelt to gather them up. “I’m…I shouldn’t have said that.” He pulled them into a stack…and his hand froze on a page full of doodles. They were portraits, but they were all of me. Me smiling. Me in profile. Me laying on my side, from the perspective of someone looking down on me while I slept.

He picked up the page and ran his fingers over the drawings. Jules watched him from his spot in the middle of the library, but said nothing. Asra sighed after a while and set the page on the desk. “It is obvious that you cared for him, greatly.”

Jules looked away.

“And…I know that my actions did not work in my favor regarding what I am going to say next but…I cared for him greatly as well. More than…well, more than I knew at the time.” He pulled his shawl down and ran his hands through his hair. He rested them, clasped together, on top of his head, and shut his eyes to think. “If there is any way that I can…remedy my wrongdoings to Hani…I’ll do it. I’d give…anything.”

“As would I.”

“Surely we, two intelligent people whom Hani cared for so deeply, can find a away…to at least work together to make this happen. If it is possible, I mean.” Asra let his hands fall to his sides. He offered Jules the slightest of smiles.

I smiled and walked from the desk to one of the bookshelves. I perused the titles. One of them called to me…so I followed the wall of worn spines to where I needed to go. I cast them a glance now and again, but their aggressive energies had faded. Somewhat.

“Is it possible?”

“It is worth a try. I’ve…” Asra pulled his notebook from his bag and held it out, open. “I’ve been studying, putting together different incantations and diagrams…”

“As have I.” Jules went to the desk and pulled out a portfolio of papers from under the mess. He opened it to show more refined versions of the messy sketches that littered his desk. They were drawn out on wide sheets, and were labeled quite thoroughly. “I’ve been finding books with different…theories, in them. Mostly because…”

I tapped at a book, and it slid from the case to fall to the ground.

“Because of that.”

Asra hurried over to pick up the book. He read the title, then flipped through. Impatiently, I waved my hand at it. The pages flew in a flurry to the right page, where different incantation elements were described.

“Does that…happen a lot?” Jules asked.

“More than you’d think.” Asra returned to the desk with the book and set it down so Jules can see. Their anger at each other was completely forgotten as they leaned over the book and read the text together. “This is what Hani wanted me to see.”

Jules stepped back and scratched at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “You still believe he’s here somewhere. Like a ghost or spirit or something.”

“I know he is,” Asra replied. His finger moved down the page as he read.

“How…how do you know?”

Asra turned to him. “Can’t…can’t you feel him?”

“No. I mean. I don’t know. Um…what…what does it feel like, when…when he’s near?”

“Like…someone is looking over your shoulder. Like someone is watching you, or listening to you. When he speaks, my ears ring. When he touches me…its like…I don’t quite know how to describe it. Like stepping out into the sun after being inside all day. Or…like a thrill, like being k…” He paused, his eyes widening at what he was about to say. “I mean…”

“A feeling beyond words.”

“Yes. Beyond words.” Asra returned his gaze to the page. “He’s here now. I…can’t see or hear him. I believe I am blocking myself, somehow, but seeing the…seeing spirits has never been my strong suit.”

“What is your strong suit then?”

“Hmm?” Asra looked up to him.

“So…we can maybe delegate how to best handle this task.”

“Nearly everything else in the line of magic. And you?”

“You may find my knowledge of magic to be rudimentary at best,” Jules motioned to his drawings.

“For rudimentary knowledge, you do have a good grasp on the elements needed to create these diagrams. You may just be operating on intuition alone, but that is never a bad thing.”

“Is it?” Jules cleared his throat and straightened. “Well. Then. Add that to a slapdash medical education and an intermediate at best artistic skill, and perhaps…perhaps I can be of some use.”

I frowned. Is that what Jules truly thought of himself? But I had no time to argue, not that it would be heard anyway. I was…feeling faint? It was hard to describe. I waved the door to the Fool’s realm open, and by the time it had widened enough for me to step through, I had stumbled a bit. The Fool waved for me to cross the threshold, and took hold of me as soon as I did so. The door slid shut, and I felt my strength return.

“What…what was that?” I was bewildered. It felt as if I had been tired, as if I hadn’t slept in days.

“Your spirit is beginning to weaken from going back to your realm so often. You won’t be able to do that much longer. You should rest here, longer, before you go back.” The Fool turned away, and I saw that we were at the crossroads again. “But you needn’t return there so soon.”

“No?”

“Your friend, Asra, awaits you.” He motioned up to the post.

“Which way?”

“It doesn’t matter. No matter what you choose…your paths will always cross.”

“What will happen?”

The Fool shrugged. He smiled.

I looked to the post, then took a path I’d never taken before. I traversed rocky hills smattered with green grasses, and looked down upon calm purple seas, under which krakens swarmed. My shoes stepped onto snow, and turned to boots, my clothes to padded down and quilting lined with furs, as I began to scale a mountain. White snow turned to blue ice beneath my feet. A glacier.

And, at the summit, stood Asra.


	17. Ugh, Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani makes two very interesting discoveries about the men in his undead life.

”When I said ‘wait right here’, I didn’t understand what was going to happen,” Asra said. His breath billowed out in a cloud about him. The vapor sparkled in a glitter of colors before dissipating. It was momentarily distracting for the both of us. “I hope I didn’t…make you wait long.”

“I was just talking to you,” I said. The vapor of my breath glittered in blue. “In the library. With Jules.”

“That was weeks ago, Hani.” Asra smiled that soft smile of his. The curves of his lips were as enticing as ever. Even though he was pretty much immune to the effect of The Fool’s realm – that much I had deduced – he did adopt minute effects upon himself. His lips were glossed with a slight sheen. In fact, all parts of him had a slight pearlescent sheen. I pulled my mittens away to see that I, too, glimmered in this way. The snow about us was touched by it. I… “Hani.”

I was getting distracted again. “Sorry. It’s hard for me to…”

“Remain focused here, yes.” Asra’s smile turned into a little smirk. “I’ve done some studies, and…conversed with Arcana that I am able to understand a bit better. I think this realm and its effects on you are becoming clearer to me. But, I wanted to thank you for…suggesting that I go to the palace. Working with Ilya…”

“Ilya?”

“Doctor Devorak.”

“His name is Jules.”

“His real name is Ilya,” Asra said. He raised a brow. “You didn’t know?”

I thought, but I was having a hard time remembering if I did actually know.

Asra’s gloved hand took up my own, once again turning my attention to him. “Working with Ilya has helped our task quite a bit. We’re discovering things we never thought to consider! And…what?”

I shrugged. I didn’t understand quite what he was talking about, even though it sparked vague recognition in me. Instead, I was captivated by the opal hues his hair had taken on. And now, the kaleidoscope of his eyes. The purples shifted in facets, creating a never-ending prism within themselves. I smiled and drew near, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hani…”

His skin glimmered with fine pixels of gold blushed pink upon his cheeks where my lips had touched him. His eyelashes were tourmaline strands of darkness that batted down upon his skin at my touch. His face turned to chase my touch…and then turned away.

“Hani. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He gave me a glance before letting go of my hand and turning to look upon the glacier. “We still need more components to create this ritual. The books you show us, however, don’t seem to be related to life and death. They seem to be more related to transmutation and…bringing something foreign into our realm.” Asra started walking, so I followed. His footsteps were depressions of violet sparkles in the snow. “And we are missing components.”

I shrugged. “If you cannot find something, perhaps someone else knows where it is.” I came up behind him and looped my arm about his. He stiffened under my touch, but didn’t push me away. “Do you remember the last place you had it?”

“That’s not…” He stopped in his tracks, but I kept going. The glacier was blue and crusted over with white beneath our feet. I studied the fractals of the ice, and when the white cleared a bit, I could see many reflections of myself smiling back at me. I looked as I did when I first had come here, to The Fool’s realm. Every part of me was crystalline, subtly so, with my clothes various shades of blue. The reflections of myself turned and pointed ahead, down a path in the glacier. Without a second thought to anything, I took off down the path at a jog.

“Hani! Wait!”

I turned and smiled at Asra, and waved for him to join me. He hesitated, allowing me to put some distance between us. Or, maybe the distance was growing between us, even if I had not walked that far from him. He took a step…and the glacier before him gave a great echoing crack.

He stepped back a few feet.

The glacier groaned and screeched, the sound like many snapping wires, before the fractals collapsed upon themselves and fell into a great chasm between us. We both stared at the nothingness in awe, and backed away when a frozen gale exhaled from it. Asra then looked about. The chasm spread as far to either side as we could see. He looked to me.

I grinned. “Jump!”

‘What?”

“Jump!” I motioned for him to come over. He shook his head.

“I am not jumping!” He looked behind him, then to me. Like I was crazy. “I’ll go back, alright? Meet me back at the beach!”

“Why would I go to the beach? I’ve already seen the beach! Just jump, Asra!”

Asra shook his head.

My smile waned. “The Fool…said you knew the rules more than anyone.” I spoke far too low for him to hear. “Surely…you understand what this is. Just…just jump, Asra. Please.”

“It’s too far,” Asra muttered. His voice carried across the chasm in a strange echo. He turned and began walking the other way.

“I’m not that way, Asra.”

He stopped. I could see how he warred with himself. His hands clenched in his gloves. His head looked about, causing the fur of his hood to ripple with the movement. He took a few more steps. With each step, he grew tinier to me. As if the distance between us was…somehow growing. As if more glacier grew between each step.

But that was impossible.

“Please!” I yelled it. “Please don’t go!”

He halted, his shoulders hunching at the words, as if someone had struck him across his back.

“I don’t…know how to hold onto myself here! I know there are things I should say and do, but I can’t! And I can’t keep going back to see you! Its hurting me!” I stepped forward, to the edge of the chasm. Asra could only look upon me from where he stood. “Please, Asra! I can’t do this without you…”

I could somehow see the sorrow and doubt in Asra’s eyes from this far away. I expected him to glance behind him, but…

He steeled himself, and with a few unsure steps to lead off on, he began running forward. I took a few steps back as he ran towards the edge of the chasm…and then jumped.

Either the chasm between us shrank, or he truly had an untapped gift for leaping. His legs pumped once, twice in midair, but then his feet crashed to the ground before me. He stumbled. I caught him, and his momentum sent us falling backwards and sliding down the path I had taken before. The path turned to a channel lined with snow and ice. Asra was clasped to me, his eyes shut and face pressed to me chest, as we slid down turns and twists…before flying off a small drop into a pile of powdery snow.

The snow flurried up about us, then transformed into crystalized particles that converged to create floating crystalline shapes, leaving us clinging to each other on bare earth. For a moment, we did not move. I was the first to open my eyes and look about us. We had landed on a path that went from the snowy glacier to a forest. The trees were tall, with long, bared trunks that popped into leaves of differing colors at their crowns. A mist wormed its way between the trunks.

Our parkas and gloves were gone. The sheen of the glacier left us as well. Asra looked about, his breath rapid as he tried to calm himself. His eyes were wide, his hands shaking slightly as they gripped at the lapel of my wrap. He turned his eyes to me.

“You made it.” I smiled and brushed a bit of his hair from his eyes. “I’m glad you did.”

“Yes, I as well.” He cleared his throat and sat up. “Where are we now?”

I shrugged as I sat up as well. “Not sure. I’ve never been here before.”

“This realm…is hard for me to understand,” Asra said. He took a deep breath in. I covered his shaking hands with my own. “It is all at once unreal, and yet, far too real. Nothing ever stays the same. Nothing is predictable.” He looked to me. “I could have…”

“Died?” I smirked. “I’ve made a few mistakes here, and well…” I motioned to myself. “I haven’t died yet!”

“But Hani, you’re already dead.”

I thought, then laughed. “That’s right! I keep forgetting!” I clapped him on the shoulder and pulled myself to my feet. I grabbed up his hand and helped him up. “Although, how is it that you can come here, if you’re not dead as well?”

“I leave my body behind every time I do. I’ve been coming to the Arcana realm since I was a child. Not…this Arcana realm, mind you. In fact, I’ve never been able to come here. I’ve seen almost all the others. This one…it is as if I couldn’t come here unless you let me.”

“I’m hardly the gatekeeper to this realm.”

“You can come and go easily. The Fool has been absent the entire time I’ve been here, and yet, the realm responds to you as if you were he.” Asra thought. “I hope you do know that you are not he.”

I scoffed. “Of course I’m not him. And why wouldn’t I let you come here? Don’t you like it here? Don’t you like being here, with me?”

Asra’s eyes studied my face. That smile was back. “I do…like being here with you. I am not sure I like this realm, though.” His smile faltered. “The reflection it requires of me…is hard for me to take into myself.”

“You do not understand?”

“No, I understand quite well,” Asra chuckled. “No one jumps a chasm hundreds of feet wide and fails to understand the lesson behind it. It could have been a little less dramatic, though.”

“And?”

Asra bit his lip. “I can’t bring you back if I am focused on the past. It was a leap of faith.” He laughed. “Quite literally!”

I smiled. “I know you can do it, Asra. I believe in you. And Jules. And…” My lips pressed together. “There’s more. More people. But…I can’t remember them very well. But, I know you need them too.”

“Do you…know the ritual we are trying to make?”

“Yes!” I pointed to him. “I know it!”

“Then tell me, and…”

“No. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because the components must come from each of you. They all have to do with you. I know what the finished result will be, but…you must create it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It will have no meaning, no _weight_ , unless it comes from you. From each of you.”

“No weight…” Asra stared off in contemplation. “What does that mean?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Do you even know?”

“Not really.”

“Who…told you about this ritual?”

“The Fool.”

“But the Fool does not have magical abilities, Hani. He is the journey.”

“Where do you think The Fool is _right now_? Or should I say, when? You may not have created this ritual yet, but it is here because you will.” I chuckled. “And if I were really The Fool, I’d do better with my time and…well…go visit other times.”

“Time…” Asra’s eyes widened. “Hani, I’ve got to go.”

“Hmm?”

“I…sort of told Ilya I’d take a nap. He thinks I’m off being lazy.”

“He doesn’t know you come here?”

“I haven’t even tried to explain it. He still doesn’t quite believe in what we’re trying to do.”

“He doesn’t need to believe. He just needs to do it.”

“Yes…and I’ll get the others.”

“The others?”

“Muriel and Nadia.”

I must’ve made a face. Asra tutted me gently and grabbed my hands. He took me in, but then I felt his resolve when he grasped my hands better within his. He pulled me forward and, at the last second, canted his head to press a kiss upon my cheek.

“Please don’t stay away too long,” I murmured. I shut my eyes as the door opened up behind him.

“I’m sure you have plenty to do until I do come back. And I will come back. You shouldn’t have to risk yourself so much to come visit us.” His hands slid against my own. I relished in the touch. His palms were so soft in mine. I opened my mouth to speak more, but he did not allow it. He stepped away…and through the door, leaving me alone.

Whatever longing I felt as he was leaving quickly dissipated once he was gone. I looked about, and then to the forest. The fog parted to reveal a path, so I turned from the glacier and hurried down it, eager to discover what the forest held for me.

The forest parted for a river to snake through it, and I followed its banks for miles. River dolphins bobbed up through the waters to look upon me, and animals quite like The Fool gazed at me with curiosity from their rest at banks. The river gave way to an ocean, and then, I was at the beach again.

The Fool stood there, next to an open doorway. I could see my realm beyond it. It was…my bedroom. But…it was different, now. The boxes with Asra’s name on them were gone. The windows were open, wide, like Asra liked to have them. I had always said it was cold, but he enjoyed the night air. There was someone laying on the bed, his legs and feet partly covered by a sheet, but it wasn’t Asra.

It was Jules.

The red rope we’d bought, _our_ red rope, was laced about him in a pattern that wasn’t mine. His arms were behind his back, his elbows bent, and the rope that held them that way also made its way about his neck in an intricate and layered choker. Despite being bound, his breath was deep and heavy. His head was bowed upon the pillow, his kneel collapsed.

Red marks bordering on purple bruises colored his pale skin. They curled about his shoulder and licked at his arms, and trailed down his broad back to his narrow waist. Welts striped his thighs. The marks were angry, and crisscrossed not only themselves but green and yellowed older bruises. I had never gone this far with him. He’d always told me he liked the pain but…never this much pain.

I looked away. “I’m not going in there.”

The Fool didn’t say anything. He just waited.

“Why are they doing this?” I paced, my steps erratic. “Why?”

“I can’t answer these questions for you. You have to ask them these questions yourself.”

I turned back to the doorway and stepped closer to it. A hand pulled at the sheet before its owner climbed onto the bed. Asra, fully clothed, where Jules was not. Asra sat himself down gently at Jules’s side, and laid a gentle hand upon his marked back. Jules gasped at the touch. His eyes rolled open.

“This was too much, Ilya,” Asra whispered.

“More.” Jules’s voice croaked in his throat. He swallowed, his throat working under the loops of rope drawn about it. “Give me _more_.”

“I…can’t!” Asra’s hand moved away.

“I need it…”

“Its not _safe_.”

“Please…make me not…feel! Make me forget…!” He sobbed it into the sheets. Asra shook his head and began to undo the ropes. Jules struggled against him, and as soon as one of his arms was freed, he turned and pushed Asra back. “I said I could take more!”

“Any more and I will make you bleed!”

“Then make me bleed!”

“It won’t make you forget, Ilya! No matter what I do, it won’t ever make you forget!”

Jules gave a noise of anguish. Of defeat. He turned away, his hair tumbling wildly into his tear stained face. He pulled the sheet about himself as best as he could with one hand. Asra began to help him, and after a small tussle, Jules relented and let Asra drape the sheet over his lap. He looked away as Asra undid the rest of the rope. His hand brushed over his throat when it was freed. Silence passed between them, and I saw Jules leave that place of desperation. He spoke only when they’d both calmed. “I can only imagine what you think of me.”

“I told you that I don’t judge you, Ilya.” Asra raised a comforting hand to Jules’s shoulder, but Jules was already climbing off the bed. He tugged on his trousers and sat to begin putting his boots back on.

I stepped through the door and it slowly shut behind me.

Jules was…not himself. I had seen him work himself to exhaustion. I had seen him in his bouts of seriousness and focus. But this was not something I’d seen before. His face held no expression. His movements were quick and to the point. There was no…flourish to him. Something in him, that spark…was dulled.

He grabbed up his shirt from the floor and began to put it on. He winced a bit when the fabric rubbed against the marks on his back. He grabbed up his gloves from the dresser and then headed out and towards the stairs.

Asra looked down at the coils of red rope left on the bed. He shook his head and hurried to follow Jules down the stairs and into the shop. I slowly followed him, my eyes focused on his retreating back. “Wait, Ilya. Please, don’t go yet. Let me make you dinner or something.”

“This was a mistake.” Jules went to the coat rack, where his coat and jacket hung.

“You say that every time you come here, and yet, you always come back.” Asra leaned against the countertop. “I know what you want me to do, and I am willing to go as far as I did today but no further. I cannot do it. And if whoever you run to next _cares_ , they won’t either.”

Jules shrugged on his jacket and began to do up the buttons.

“I can’t meet the punishment that you are already doing to yourself.”

Jules’s hands stilled on one of the buttons. He scoffed and continued. “You said it yourself. If it weren’t for me…well.” He finished what he was doing and pulled on his gloves. “We certainly wouldn’t be fiddling with chants and books. Or, I wouldn’t be.” He scoffed and threw up his hands. “I should be focusing on the cure. Not…moonlit rituals and séances.”

Asra moved from the counter and slowly went over to Jules. I expected Jules to shy away from him, but when Asra reached up to touch his cheek…the doctor _leaned into it_. I felt something bristle within me. Asra whispered something to him and then…Jules obediently leaned down for him. Their lips met.

I turned away.

I could hear them kissing behind me. The soft sound of lips against lips. Tastes shared between lovers who knew what each other wanted in the act, and gave it. I knew the touches that Asra was giving to Jules, because he once gave them to me. And when Jules moaned so soft, that nearly voiceless twinge of need that lit up his exhalation…well, it had been against my lips that he had once given it.

“Let’s try this again,” Asra murmured.

I looked at them from over my shoulder. Jules chin was in Asra’s hand. I could see that he was almost there, in that place. But he blinked, and turned away. “Nevermind,” he said. Jules pulled on his coat. His hand brushed up against the inner pocket. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulled the object out.

A scroll of paper.

“I finally managed to get this from Valdemar.”

Asra took it and unfurled it slowly. “Oh.” He set it on the counter and spread it out with his hands. It was not just one sheet, but many. “It’s…”

“Its not an autopsy report. There wasn’t one. I mean, there wasn’t an autopsy performed. That is for…study subjects. Everyone afflicted was…was…”

“Cremated.”

“Yes. To try to halt the spread of the disease. But these are the notes from the examination, when he was first brought in and before he was taken to…” Jules’s voice caught in his throat. “Anyway. It isn’t my report, but Valdemar signed off on it.”

Asra nodded and silently went over the notes. He went over each sheet thoroughly. I turned away and looked upon the bookcases. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to know about _them_. How…how could they? _With each other_?

It did not make sense, to me. Last I saw of them, their anger for each other was still fresh and hot, barbed in energy between them. And last I had seen of Asra…he had been so close to me.

No.

He’d resisted me. I could see that now, here, with my mind un-muddied by The Fool’s realm and energy. Was it because of this? Because they had somehow, in my absence, found comfort in each other’s embrace? Did they… _love_ each other?

“There’s no mention of a bite anywhere,” Asra said. “Every other body that you studied after Hani had given you his theory…well, you mentioned a bite in their reports.”

“Yes…” Jules grabbed up the sheets and scanned them quickly. There was a diagram, a human body shape, front and back. Each freckle and scar I had in life was noted on that diagram, but no bites. I remembered how I had looked for one when I had come to in the clinic. I had checked every part of myself, running my hands over each thigh, under each toe, through my hair…but my fingers found nothing. My eyes saw nothing. My palms…

My palms.

I looked at my own hands. I expected to see a bite, somewhere. Instead…I saw the symbol upon them, as if projected there from a punched metal lamp. The symbols were brief in existence, and faded to nothing in an instant.

And there, between my middle and ring fingers on my left hand, was a small bruise.

How very clever. I had been left handed, in life, and that was the hand that had done most of the searching. I’d checked every part of my body, but my mind had forgotten to check that very spot, much like my eyes had forgotten, so long ago, that a nose sat between them.

“This was Valdemar’s report?” Asra asked.

“No, but they signed off on it.”

“Who was the supervising doctor, then?”

“Their name should be right…” Jules’s fingers ran over the corner of the page. There was only one signature there. “That isn’t right.”

“It seems to me that this report is not quite accurate. You don’t remember seeing a bite?”

“I…didn’t get a good look, Asra. I was not…in the right frame of mind then.”

I went over to them and put my finger to the diagram, indicating the spot. “There.”

Asra looked down at the page. “Hani is here.”

“Asra…” Annoyance twinged Jules’s voice.

“Give me a pen.”

Jules sighed but produced a bit of graphite from his coat pocket and handed it over. Asra closed his eyes and breathed in deep, trying to clear himself so he could hear me. But I had nothing to say to them. Either of them.

He somehow picked up on me, though, and hovered the graphite over the page. He touched the tip down upon the diagram…between the ring and middle fingers. He opened his eyes, and lifted the graphite after making a mark.

“Easy to miss,” Jules said. “Hani was left handed. But…I should have looked.”

“The plague is carried by an insect,” Asra said, ignoring Jules’s last comment. They both stared down at the pages for a long while, lost in thought. “Why would Valdemar want to hide Hani’s bite?”

“Because it would mean that Hani’s theory was right. Hani followed my regimen closely. He’d burned all his clothes, and had washed himself after being exposed to the afflicted. But being in the clinic put him in direct and constant contact with the plague. If there had been a bite, along with everyone else’s bite, it would be evidence enough. With no bite…it would be easy to say that he was not careful in protecting himself.”

“Why would they do that? Don’t they want to end the plague?”

“Valdemar finds joy in the blood and bodies that come their way,” Jules muttered. “What is the saying? There’s no use for a doctor when every patient is healthy?”

Asra’s face hardened. “Hani died for this theory. And he was right. This whole time.”

Jules didn’t reply. He turned and headed towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to work,” Jules said. “I’m sorry, Asra, but I’ve been fiddling with this magic nonsense for far too long. I have to focus on stopping the plague again, now that we know Hani was right. If this is even true. We are going off a hunch. From a ghost…who may not even be real.”

Asra’s mouth slid open, but Jules was already out in the night. I looked to Asra, but he had returned his gaze to the sheets. “You don’t have to worry about me, Hani,” he said. “One glacier leap was enough for me. I understand what I must do.”

“What you must do didn’t involve sleeping with Jules.” But Asra did not hear. I ran through the door and after Jules, whose long legs were taking him at a brisk pace back to the palace. For once he was actually using his coat as a coat, as the night was chilly. He had pulled the lapels up over his ears, and his hands were dug into the pockets. I matched his pace and looked him over.

There were slight marks about his throat where the ropes were, and some against his chest. Whatever Asra had struck him with, he’d not marked his front side. I could see that much before Jules clutched his coat close to ward off the cold. “Hey.”

He kept going. I kept pace, which would have been impossible in my body. For every step he took, I had to give one and a half of my own.

His face was that sternly stoic expression he usually gave when faced with Lucio. It was going to be hard to get him to listen to me, harder than it was to get Asra to focus. And Jules was still…lost in his grief. No, his guilt. It had taken him over and it was all he lived with now.

“Jules?”

Nothing. I came to a halt and let him keep going. He disappeared into the darkness, but I knew where he was going. And then, I was there.

The research facility under the palace was…different now. My intuition told me, even as a dead person, that this was a dangerous place. The tables, once kept so clean, were caked in layers of dried blood. There were handprints on the walls, here and there. Someone had created an odd pit to the side, which was covered by a heavy looking but ominous lid.

Valdemar stood at the center stage, a body cracked open before them. Their arms were practically elbow deep in the remains. Blood and bits of tissues clung to their gloves and uniform. The body jerked under the force of their movements.

I don’t know how it was possible to feel nausea as a ghost, but I felt it anyway. I turned away from the sight just as Jules came rounding the corner into the room. He hadn’t bothered with protective gear this time. Valdemar halted their work to look up at Jules, but Jules only pushed past and headed to the former cell that was now his office.

The door shut behind him and locked from the inside. Locks and doors were no problem for me, though, and I passed on through easily.

Jules paced a bit, and I discovered that although he was tight with his thoughts around Asra, here he…let go of whatever he held up to keep his energies private. They unwound, bit by bit, until I could hear snippets here and there…all in his first language, as Nadia’s thoughts were in Pakran.

He turned to the door and peered out the little barred window there, then fished in his coat. He produced a thick book that I recognized as Asra’s.

“You stole that!”

He sat behind his desk and flipped open the book. I waited as he went over things quickly, and flipped through pages in search of…something. I leaned over the desk to watch, but I didn’t know what he was looking for. I couldn’t get a read on it, and I realized that this part was going to have to be _his_ contribution.

His eyes kept moving to the window, then back again. He cursed in his native language and shut the book. He pushed it aside to grab up a few others, a few medical books. These were worn and well read, and notes poked out through the pages to bookmark passages of note. He flipped whole chunks of the book aside. The bits of text that I could spy were written in Pakran.

He stopped at one dogeared page and read through it. I couldn’t understand Pakran but I could at least make out the diagrams. There were images of different insects. Mosquitos, fleas. Ticks. I raised a brow.

“Nothing about beetles,” Jules muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and then over his face. His fingers rested over his mouth. The dark line of his upper lip was barely visible between his fingers. I tried not to think of that dark line pressed against Asra’s lips.

He did that thing with his fingertip. It ran over his lips absently, and rested upon the corner before shifting upon the bow at the center. It was not fair, I realized. It was not fair that Asra was allowed to kiss him, when I could not. I reached out and touched my fingers to the spot he touched. How I wanted to feel him…

Jules jumped when my fingers made contact, as if I’d shocked him. He looked about with widened eyes, and even turned about in his chair as if expecting someone to be standing there.

“So you _can_ feel me.”

His head turned so that he faced me, but his eyes were focused somewhere on my chest. He shook his head after a moment. “It isn’t real.”

“Jules…”

“Its stupid. I’ve wasted so much time chasing ghost stories.” Jules looked to the book again. “So many people are suffering. And I have done _nothing_ to stop it.”

I realized that he was tapping into his intuition, like Asra had. It was a backdoor sort of way of hearing me, especially when someone was blocked from grief, or another strong emotion. But he had no idea of what he was doing. I gathered myself and forced my anger over…seeing them to fall back. Now was not the time. He didn’t need more chastisement. He was doing that plenty on his own.

“You’d done plenty,” I said. “You’ve worked so hard. The plague is not your fault.”

“What am I missing, then? What is it that I am not seeing?” Jules rested his forehead in his hands. “How is an insect bite able to create illness?”

“If you cannot cure the sick, you can at least do what you can to prevent more illness. Think of your regimen, Jules. It has kept you alive this long. You’ve touched no sickness, and you’ve kept yourself free from insects and vermin. If the beetles are destroyed, perhaps the plague will…at least subside.”

“No one listened to me then.”

“They have no choice but to listen to you. Now.”

“But that still does not…”

“Work on what you can now. Take on what you know, now. Leave the things you do not know, and cannot act upon for another day. Including in your thoughts. The solutions are there, and they will come to you.”

Jules nodded reluctantly. “Work on what I can, now. The rest will sort itself, later.”

I smiled. “That’s it.” My hand came to rest over one of his. He jumped again and pulled his hand away.

“A feeling beyond words,” he murmured.

“I am here, Jules.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts, Hani.”

“For a man who doesn’t believe in ghosts, you are good at having conversations with them.” I laughed.

The corners of his mouth quirked. “I’d forgotten what it sounded like.”

“What?”

“Your laugh” He scoffed at himself. “I want to hear you so badly, that perhaps I am willing myself to hear things. I can only imagine what you’d say to me now. You’d probably tell me to put the book away and go get some sleep.”

“It does sound like a good idea.”

A droplet fell from Jules’s face to the book. He ran his gloved hand over the wet spot. “Who am I fooling, Hani? I could not stop the plague, and now…so many people are dead. I would not be there for you when you needed me. You died, alone, and I, of all people, just let it happen. To the one person, out of everyone in the whole world, who meant more to me than anything. And every day, all I can think of is you. Every moment we ever shared…and how you gave so _freely_ , and when you needed me I had nothing for you.

“But…who am I kidding. This is how it always goes. Everyone who has ever relied on me has…suffered. How could I have convinced myself that it could be different with you?

“You were so busy resisting me that I never stopped to think if it would have been better if…we had never happened.”

“How could you possibly think that?” I stood back, affronted. “Does it all mean so little that you’d just…erase it if given a chance? Don’t I have a say in that? It is not your _fault_ , Jules, but you want to punish yourself and _me_ with you…”

“I wanted to believe that this spell thing could work. Then you could come back, and…get a second chance. It made me feel better, for a little bit. But even if you came back…what part would I play in this new life of yours? It would all just happen again.” He sat back in his seat and rubbed away his tears. “I want to be done with this city, with this plague. The deeper I go, the worse it becomes. And now, there’s As…”

“Asra.”

Jules crossed his arms. His eyes shifted as he thought of what to say. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“And yet, it did.”

“It was…it doesn’t matter. I’m not going back.”

I looked away. “Yes you will.” What more could I say about this? Theirs was the realm of the living. The realm of touches, and kissing, and getting tangled in sheets and limbs. I wasn’t a part of it anymore. I scoffed at the thought. How could I begrudge them for wanting…whatever it was that they had found together?

I didn’t understand it. But just as I had done when Asra had left, they had _moved on_. I suddenly realized that I had no inkling of how much time had passed since I had died. For me, it felt like only a few weeks had passed. But to them…

I remembered how Asra had said he was only gone a little while, but years had passed. I cursed myself.

“I won’t…give up on the ritual, if that is what you are wondering,” Jules suddenly said. “Since I can’t hear you right now.”

“Thanks,” was all I could manage.

“And Asra was able to track down his friend. The large one that you two are so fond of. He won’t tell me how, or where he is, but he’s started creating his own…pieces of it. Or so Asra tells me.”

“And the Countess?”

Jules perked up. “The Countess? What does she have to do with anything?”

“She has a part to play too.”

“She…refuses to see either of us. I…”

We both started as something banged against the door. Valdemar’s creepy, unblinking eyes stared through the bars. “Doctor zero six nine. Who are you talking to?”

“Myself,” Jules spat defensively. “I’m making notes.” He motioned to the books in front of him.

“Make notes a little quieter.” Valdemar’s gaze swept the inside of the cell before they moved on.

Jules waited until they were far enough away out of earshot before speaking again, his voice low. “I can’t focus on a cure _or_ the ritual in here. Valdemar watches me too closely, and I feel they are beginning to suspect Asra.” He got up and searched his office for something, and then produced a large drawstring canvas bag. He began shoving items into it, including his Pakran books and Asra’s book. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“I have a mentor in Pakra. I learned what I could from them about diseases, but they retreated back to Pakra when the plague began to strengthen. The borders have been shut down on the Pakran side but…perhaps I can get through.” He grinned. A spark of his old self shone through for a brief moment. “Locked borders have never stopped me before.”

“When will you come back?”

“I can’t stay too long. Lucio will suspect that I’ve run. And he will stop at nothing to find someone that he’s after.”

I raised my brows. “Yes, that is true.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out his portfolio of ritual notes. The thing was stuffed with papers, so he opened it and began sorting them. He tossed away useless diagrams, and kept the ones that were closer to his part of the ritual. He flipped through them, and stopped on the sheet that I recognized as the one with drawings that Asra had picked up in the library.

“I suppose what I am doing with Asra isn’t fair to you.”

“It isn’t fair that I cannot be with you.” I closed my eyes. Yes. I wanted to be there, with them. To see them, and touch them. To feel their hands on me, their lips. “I…don’t care if you are together.” I opened my eyes and looked to him. His fingers were on the image of me, sleeping. “Asra is too kind of a person to hurt you the way you want, Jules. If you want to be with him, then you have to know that.”

“Yes, well.” He set the page down over his other notes and closed the portfolio. He tied it up with its leather thong and fit it into the bag. “We all have our vices.”

“This isn’t a vice, Jules. You tell me that Lucio is cruel, but to ask Asra to do this is cruel as well.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand enough!” I tried to grab for his arm. My touch passed right through him.

He winced. “Stop that. I’m leaving.”

I scoffed, but he slung the back over his shoulder and left the cell. I heard Valdemar shout after him, but then his steps were retreating, and heading up the staircase. Valdemar could give chase, but Jules could outrun anybody when he wanted.

“I’d like to go back now.”

Nothing happened.

“I want to go back!”

Again, nothing.

I looked about, but there was no doorway, anywhere. A slight panic crept up within me, and I ran out of the open cell door to search if the door to The Fool’s realm was there. It wasn’t.

But Valdemar was, and they were staring right at me.

“I knew he was talking to somebody.” They said. “Here I was, hoping he’d gone crazy. It is only a matter of time, you know.”

I swallowed. How did Valdemar know I was here? They could obviously see me. And hear me, it seemed. But how? I’d never seen them express interest in magic. They turned their eyes from me to the corpse on the table. “Only…only a matter of time for what?”

“Until Doctor zero six nine becomes delusional. He thinks he can cure the plague. There is no cure.”

“If there is no possibility of a cure, then why did you lie on my report?”

Valdemar’s hands stilled. Their fingers were wrapped about the corpse’s heart. Slick sounds came from it as their fingers moved upon the dead tissue. “What does it matter? You’re dead now. You should do as all the other souls have done and just…pass on.”

The bright light I’d seen when I’d first died came up again, right above Valdemar’s shoulder. I felt a pull upon me, and took a step back. “No. I am not going.”

“You’re expending all your energy here,” Valdemar said. Their wide gaze was upon me again. “I know you are all up to something. It won’t work, you know. You need a new body to come back. And that is why no one can ever come back. Because who would ever give up their body to someone else? Who would give up their life…for _you_?”

I shook my head again. The pull was becoming stronger. I slid against the floor, and passed right through a table. I turned and _ran._

I ran right up the steps, and thought of any place I’d rather be than there at that moment. It took a few minutes, but then I was in the palace gardens. I stumbled and fell to my knees. The pulling was gone. There was no bright light about me. I panted, then cried.

That had been close.

I looked up, and saw that I was kneeling at the base of the tree under which I had been buried. The leaves were browning, as it was fall. A few dropped and landed softly about me.

Someone had carved my name into the base of the tree. The only marker of my existence. The only way anyone would know I was there.

I felt the doorway open up behind me. I whirled about to see The Fool waiting, like always. “Why didn’t you come?”

“That creature is skilled with the Arcana realm as well. I could not open up my realm and…myself to it.”

“They seem skilled in a lot more than just the Arcana realm!” I got to my feet and staggered over. “They opened another doorway.”

“Yes. Death’s door.”

“And they said I wouldn’t be able to come back because there is no body for me to come back to!” I motioned to the grave. It had been paved over with paving stones. There was no way to tell the soil had ever been disturbed. “What of that, then?”

“You…needn’t worry about that.” He beckoned me to cross through the doorway.

“No. As soon as I go in there, I will forget everything. I will forget about needing a new body. I will forget about…Jules, and Asra! I will forget about the plague, and…and…”

“Are all these things really your things to worry about? You sound like Jules, who takes so much responsibility for things he cannot control.”

I gave a noise of defeat. “The new body, then. At least that is my responsibility.”

“Is it? Do you really think I’d set you on a path like this, and risk as much as I have, without knowing of this component? It will be resolved when it needs to be. Come along. The masquerade is in the spring. And then…we will make our move.”

“The spring…?”

I looked up at the palace. Somewhere, inside, Lucio slept. Nadia was in there as well. “There’s something I must do.”

“Hani, your energy is waning far too much…”

“I have to go speak to Nadia.”

“Nadia knows what to do already, Hani. Asra has sent her a letter.”

“And yet she is the only one who hasn’t done anything.”

“You must trust her to find her reasons to participate.”

I shook my head and turned away. I headed down the path through the gardens. I wanted to head up to wherever Nadia was, but for some reason, I could neither just go there nor fix upon her energy. I found myself walking up stairs and going through locked doors.

The palace inside was dark, and the only movements came from guards or palace staff working on night-time chores. I headed away from areas that I knew were just for the public to see, if they ever saw them. I found myself walking familiar hallways and passed the room that used to be mine, a long time ago. I didn’t duck in, though.

Nor to Jules’s room.

I headed up to the floor which I knew housed the Count and Countess’s rooms. Lucio had his wing separate to Nadia’s, and I had no desire to go visit the count in any form. I headed towards Nadia’s rooms, but when I entered, she was not there.

I thought of what Jules had said, a long time ago. _You know what they say…there has to be someone out there for everybody._

I turned and headed out of Nadia’s wing towards Lucio’s. I _really_ did not wish to catch another couple together on this night, but it seemed like I would have no choice. I needed Nadia to start work on her part of the ritual. And if my energy was waning, I couldn’t risk to many more trips to this realm. So…

I climbed a short flight of stairs, and ignored the two white hounds laying there. They both growled at me, but there was nothing they could do anyway. I found Lucio’s door and passed right through it…

To see him, in his luxuriously huge and canopied bed, and definitely not asleep.

He sat propped back against plush red pillows, his fine robes parted and his sleepshirt pushed up over his navel, with his blond locks tousled and a fine ruddy upon his cheeks. His blue eyes were focused upon the person riding him, who was definitely not Nadia.

“I think you’re late to meet with your wife,” the man breathed. Bleached blond hair, with the barest of dark roots showing, hung in his face as he ground himself upon Lucio.

Lucio smirked, and ran his hands down the other man’s bare chest. “She can wait.”


	18. With All My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadia reflects on her marriage.

“Oh, god!” I turned and covered my eyes. “I don’t want to see that!”

I mean, not that either man was unpleasant looking. The other man looked vaguely familiar, as if I’d seen him about the palace before, but I couldn’t place his name.

The sound of two bodies moving on a mattress slowed. “Did you hear something?” The other man said.

“Its probably the dogs.”

I peeked through my fingers, making sure that I _didn’t_ see either of them below the waist. The other man was looking about, in my general direction. I cursed myself inwardly. Lucio pursed his lips, his eyes on the other, but this man…

Had he heard me?

Lucio growled in frustration and grabbed the other man by the waist. He flipped them, causing the other man’s eyes to widen comically before his back hit the mattress. Lucio must’ve slid home once more, for the other man gave a wail, taken by surprise. For this, Lucio received a slap on his real arm.

“You’ll have to hit harder than that, Valerius,” Lucio grinned.

Valerius. Consul Valerius. The _elected_ official whose duties were to keep Lucio in line, and to make sure the needs of Vesuvia were met by the reigning Count. They were…in _bed_? “Figures.”

“There it is again!” Valerius pushed at Lucio until, with a scoff, Lucio got off of him. Valerius scrambled to his feet and pulled on a grey dressing gown. Lucio pulled his sleepshirt down with a huff and waited, lounged on his side. I lowered my hands now that they were both somewhat decent. I tried to ignore the tent Lucio was casting against his sleepshirt. “I heard a voice.”

“There’s voices _everywhere_ here,” Lucio said. “Servants. Maids. Butlers.” He looked up from his nails, which he had been examining. “Courtiers.”

Valerius tied the sash to his dressing gown and cast Lucio a glare. “I heard it _in here_. I know there’s secret passageways all throughout this place. Is someone spying on us? I don’t want this,” he motioned between them. “To be knowledge out there.” He pointed to the door.

“What does it matter if anyone does find out?” Lucio shrugged. “What is anybody going to do about it?”

“Not vote for me come next term?” Valerius rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Lucio…”

“Well, I don’t hear anything and all this paranoia is making me go soft.” Lucio sighed and rolled onto his back. “If you aren’t going to finish what you started, then get the hell out.”

I chuckled.

“Laughing! I heard someone _laughing._ ”

“Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much before bed.”

“Do you think…what he said was true?”

“Hmm?”

“You know. That someone was going to try and thwart us. You.”

Lucio scoffed with a laugh. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Nothing is going to happen. He’s making me do all sorts of nonsense for him, and…” Lucio waved in dismissal. “He is obviously spreading lies to get you paranoid.”

“I have a lot at stake, you know.”

“As do I.”

“And if you are not taking precautions because you believe you are _invincible_ ,” Valerius went over to the bed and yanked at one of the pillows that Lucio reclined upon. Lucio fell back and then cast Valerius a glare. Valerius let the pillow drop to the floor, all the while his eyes were steady on Lucio’s. “I don’t want to suffer for it.”

“Nothing. Is going. To happen.” Lucio grabbed another pillow and propped himself up again.

“Says the man who said the plague would be nothing more than a short lived wave of sniffles, like allergies.”

Lucio looked away. His jaw worked, and I could see that Valerius struck a nerve.

“And…”

“If you think your nagging is in any way endearing, you’re very wrong,” Lucio said. “Go. I can handle myself if I have to.”

There came a scratching at the door. Then, a whine. Valerius rolled his eyes. “I swear to god, Lucio, if your damned dogs…”

“That’s probably what you heard! Let them in before they strip the varnish off the door!”

Valerius grumbled but did as he was told. No sooner had he opened the door, the two large hounds shouldered their way through, causing him to stumble backwards. Lucio’s glare was lost as they ran over to him. He spent a few moments ruffling their fur. Valerius cleared his throat and shut the door.

The sound caused the dogs to look over at him, then at me. I had stepped away from the door when Valerius had neared it, so the dogs now appeared to be peering at a blank spot on the wall. “They’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Lucio said. “I think there may be mice in the walls.”

“Mice.”

“Yes. You’re getting worked up over mice and dogs.”

Valerius looked to the wall, then the dogs. His cheeks pinked in embarrassment. “Maybe…I do need to cut back on the wine.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Valerius regarded Lucio with mild annoyance, then undid his dressing gown sash. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to see this anymore, so I turned and passed right out the wall into the hallway.

Where was Nadia?

I went back to her rooms and decided to check there more thoroughly. Her huge, circular bed was empty, the sheets still made. Her closets, while full of expensive looking clothing, were dark and cold. A parlor was empty. The study…I paused.

Nadia sat there, at a secretary desk, dressed in a ruffled dressing gown and a fine lace nightgown, her hair loose down her back, writing in a notebook. I stepped forward, then remembered how I’d frightened her before. I didn’t know how to gain her attention without startling her, so I cleared my throat.

“Lucio?” Nadia raised her head, then started when she saw me instead of her husband. She had been closing her notebook, but let it fall open again. “Hani!”

I smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you. You weren’t in your rooms, so…”

“I…apologize,” she looked down at her work then set down her pen. She got up and came over to me. “I wanted to get as much done before Lucio came over. He’s…late.”

My lips pressed together in a line. “Yeah…he seems caught up in something.”

Nadia’s eyes flashed with recognition of something. “He’s with the Consul, isn’t he?”

“You…know?”

“Of course I know,” Nadia rolled her eyes. She went back to her desk. It was surrounded by shelves of books, and she took one out to start reading it. “At first it bothered me, but recently…I’ve just come to accept it. I actually am glad, now. Lucio’s fumblings are, well…” She shrugged. “Best wasted on someone else.”

“He doesn’t…hurt you, does he?”

“No. Lucio may be many things, but he doesn’t enjoy anything less than _absolute praise_ ,” Nadia chuckled. “And he wants his partners to come to him willingly. He thinks I am some weak little flower, and wants me to be absolutely in love and awe of him.” Her smile wavered. “Maybe I was, once. When he came to Pakra, I thought he was so handsome. I was so charmed by him. I was also so very drunk that night, when he proposed. Oh, how my naïve eyes have been opened since then.” She returned the book to the shelf and pulled another.

“Then can’t you…leave?”

“Despite the…unique nature of my marriage, I actually do like it here, Hani. I’ve been able to start work on a few projects of my own. City betterment, stuff like that. Some of the projects are now delayed, but, Vesuvia has, at least I’d like to think it has, gotten better in some small way with me being here. I wanted this city to be a beautiful place, a place where not only would people enjoy living here, but would love to come to visit as well.” She smirked and rested her head in her hand. “Although, I do admit there is no point now that the roads out are all closed.”

“How is Vesuvia getting along without trade?”

“There are still ships coming in, although no one will dock. Goods are loaded onto boats on a line and then pulled into shore. Nothing is going out of Vesuvia, though. So far, no one has reported plague outside of the city.”

“That’s good at least. Has…has Jules mentioned the beetles?”

“He has. I actually read your letter to my husband. But nothing’s come of it since then.”

“They…he and Asra…have found more evidence regarding the beetles. I think Jules knows how to stop the plague, or at least, where to start looking. He’s going to try to leave Vesuvia to meet up with someone in Pakra. A mentor of some sort?”

“Oh, yes. Nazali.”

“I…”

Someone knocked at the door. Nadia looked to it, then sighed. “That’ll be Lucio, then.” She shut the notebook – not without me seeing doodles of magical diagrams on the pages – and shut the book she was reading. She set them aside and pulled a portfolio from a drawer. She opened it to show plans for some buildings. “I just need him to sign off on these things. He does like to keep me waiting, especially if it requires him to part with _money_.”

She went to the door and opened it, but it wasn’t Lucio there. It was Jules. “I’m sorry to bother you this late, Nadia.”

“No, its quite alright,” she opened the door and let him in, and softly shut it behind him. She took in his coat and the bag. “Heading out somewhere?”

“I need to go to Pakra, to visit Nazali,” he said. He set down the bag and opened it. He pulled out that worn book he had been reading, the one written in Pakra. He flipped the pages open to the section on bugs. “Asra and I found out today that Valdemar falsified Hani’s examination before he had died. There had been a bite. That is how Hani contracted the disease.”

“Oh!” Nadia took up the book and read the pages, even if I had just told her the same information. “What do you expect to learn from Nazali?”

“How to stop it.”

“Get him to talk about his plans for the beetles,” I said.

“And…what will we do about these beetles while you are gone?”

“I…yes,” Jules ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t be gone too long. But…I suppose if you start a program to destroy the beetles, you can at least stave off new occurrences of the plague while I work on the cure.”

“Such a program will be more acceptable to Lucio if it comes from you instead of me.”

“Can you not instate the program without his approval?”

“I…could. But it will require money. And unfortunately, his approval is what loosens the purse strings around here.”

“Fine.” Jules crouched and shuffled through his bag. He produced one, two, three purses of palace coin. “I don’t need this anyway. Well, I was going to use it to bribe the border guards. But that would be my last resort.”

“Isn’t this your salary?”

“For a half a year. I saved in case I ever needed to…leave.” He went over to the desk and set the purses down. He was so near to me, but didn’t seem to sense me. “And…I wanted to know if you had been working on anything special with Asra.”

Nadia’s eyes widened. “Special?”

“Mystical. Regarding Hani.”

“He wants to know if you are working on a ritual to bring me back,” I said.

“Well, yes. He needed help in creating a diagram. I…don’t know what I can do, but…” She went over and took up the notebook, then showed it to him. “Is it…right?”

“I am not sure. He’s the expert in these things.” He flipped through a few pages. “He has his friend, the large one, working on this as well.”

“He wants to bring Hani back from the dead.” Nadia took the notebook from him when he offered it to her. “This is the ritual I was trying to tell you all about. You were…less than accepting of the proposal at the time.”

“Yes, well. Minds can change.”

“They can, they truly can.” Nadia’s eyes widened as she gave a chuckle.

“Tell me…you said you can see Hani. Can…can you still see him?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

“I…could have sworn I heard him earlier. Valdemar looked at me like I was going crazy.” Jules laughed nervously. “I’m not…going crazy, that is?”

“No. But who am I to define crazy? I’m the one who claims to be able to see ghosts.”

I smirked. “You can tell him I’m here now if you want.”

“Hani’s here.” Nadia motioned to me. Jules looked to me, but obviously did not see. He did take a step to the side, however. “Right next to you.”

“He…what…um. What does he look like?”

“Very blue. Not sad. But…his hair is blue. He’s wearing a blue tunic, with blue beading. Gold beads through his hair, and gold jewelry. Those flowing trousers he likes to wear. He’s smiling.”

“Smiling.” Jules scratched at the nape of his neck. “I could have sworn he was just down in the dungeons with me. He was angry.”

My smile faltered. I looked away. “ _He’s_ angry with _me_. Because I told him the truth about what he’s doing and he doesn’t want to accept it.”

“Apparently you aren’t doing something right,” Nadia said.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“You should know better.”

“This is something you should already know.”

“What is the point of me coming back if you are going to hurt yourself or…go away?”

Nadia’s voice caught in her throat. She looked between the two of us. “He…doesn’t want us to waste our efforts if this is how you’re going to go about it. I’m sorry, I don’t really know what is going on…” She looked to Jules, and caught a glimpse of a bruise along his collarbone. “Oh, my…”

Jules quickly clasped his lapels together. “I should go.”

“Now I can see how you two get on so well. You’re both excellent in running away.”

Nadia shut her eyes and sighed, but repeated what I said, word for word. Jules halted in his movement to grab up his pack. For a moment I truly believed he would stop and address me, but he cinched the drawstring shut and slung the pack over his shoulder. “Well. That’s over now, so no need to worry. I’ll be back before winter, Nadia.”

He cast a glance to the spot where he knew I stood, then opened the door and left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

I seethed.

“Yes, he can be a little obstinate when he wants to be,” Nadia said. She turned to me. “Hani…whatever he is going through, I am sure he will be alright. For as graceless as he is, he does seem to get out of his scrapes as easy as he gets into them.”

“This is different. He is punishing himself for my death. It wasn’t his fault!”

“It was all our faults, Hani.”

“What do you have to do with me dying? We barely knew each other.”

“Yes, but, I could have done more to stop this plague. I…read your letter to Lucio before he did, and did nothing. I thought he would handle it. He didn’t even read the letter until you had died. It just sat there, for days. Then, he dismissed it. But even before then, I’ve been here, just…” She motioned about us. “In my own little bubble. I’d build an aqueduct here. Housing plan there. And think that I’ve done much to help the city. We’ve all been ignoring the suffering right under our noses. I like to poke fun at Lucio but the truth is I am no better than he is.”

I had nothing to say to that.

“And from what I understand, your friend Muriel feels guilty in that he is indirectly responsible for your passing. If you hadn’t come to him, you wouldn’t have been sent to the clinic. I don’t understand how he could have predicted that chain of events, but he feels bad for it.”

I couldn’t think of a reply. It was not my fault that they all felt this way.

“To be honest, we would all give anything to make this right.”

“You all say something similar. ‘I would give anything.’ And yet, I am here, and things like that happen.” I motioned to the door. “I don’t want you all to harm yourselves on _my_ account.”

Nadia raised her brows in agreement and retook her seat at the desk. “Yes. Well. That is a worry for if and when we ever do make this ritual come together. It makes no sense to me.”

I gave a nod and began to pace the room, my arms crossed before me. I wanted to talk more about Jules, and Asra. I wanted to talk more about Nadia and Lucio. Even Muriel…

I opened my mouth to speak again, but at that moment a wave of _tiredness_ overtook me. I raised my hand to my head. My legs suddenly refused to take another step. I sank down to my knees and sat there with a groan.

“Hani?” Nadia ran over and knelt beside me, but there wasn’t much she could do. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m so tired…” I looked up at her. My vision blurred, refocused, then blurred again. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I think this is the last time I can come here.”

She was worried, but she gave a nod.

“Please look after them for me. I know I ask so much of you…but I mean it when I say I care about all of you.”

“Of course. Where will you go?”

“To rest. Until the ritual is ready.” The door was already opening, right beside me. “I’ve…done all I can do here.”

“I understand. Please, Hani. Go wherever you are going. We’ll take care of the ritual. I promise.”

I gave a grateful smile before getting to my feet. I swayed and tumbled forward through the doorway, which immediately shut behind me. I fell down onto the ground, and recognized it as the crossroads. I looked up to see The Fool before I passed out.

 

….

 

I’d forgotten about the other realm.

I’d forgotten about everyone, and the ritual. With no breaks to sever The Fool’s hold on my energy, I slipped into it and was consumed by it. I suppose it wasn’t a bad way to waste time. But I’d lost track of everything I was.

One day, though, it all came back to me.

I was at the beach. Or rather, I was in the ocean. This day, the waters were clear blue upon white sands, so clear that one could see directly to the bottom easily. The waves were small and calm. The sun shone down through a cloudless sky. Above me, whales and dolphins swam through the air, buoyant with their translucent bodies.

I’d waded into the waters naked. They were just the right temperature, and I delighted in swimming without the need to breathe. I lay floating on the rippling sea, my eyes staring up at the display above, with my blue hair floating in waves about my head.

“Hani.”

I raised my head, then found my footing, and looked to shore.

Asra stood there. He wore swimming briefs, and a sheer, sleeveless wrap with a hood that cast yellow hues upon his hair. He smiled. I waved, then motioned for him to come in. He shed the wrap and then waded through the water to me, then blushed. “Hani, you’re naked.”

I only smirked. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I wanted to visit you before we started the ritual. We’ll do it soon. It’s almost come together.”

“Ritual?”

“To bring you back.”

“Back where?”

Asra’s smile threatened to disappear. “Back home, Hani.” He reached over and took my hand. The waves lapped at us, at our waists. “Nadia told me that you collapsed last time you visited us. You’ve been here ever since. I suppose I can’t be surprised that you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten you.” I smiled. I had, but…now it returned. I remembered him. At the glacier. How he’d kissed my cheek. He had smiled. This strange visitor who came and went…I was always happy to see him.

“I…have some news, but I don’t think it is going to matter to you.” He gently pulled at my hand, and I followed him back to the shore. I let him put his wrap on me, and he tied it about my waist. “Nadia’s program to kill the beetles is working, and so is the medicine that Jules brought back from Pakra. He told me it was mold, but…whatever. It isn’t a cure by any means. But the sick aren’t dying as fast, and less people are getting bitten.”

His eyes met mine as he pulled the hood over my wet hair. “And there’s more. Lucio is sick.”

Lucio. _Lucio_?

“And…I know what he is planning to do. His plans are much like our own. He’s going to try and ride off our ritual. I don’t know if he knows what we’re doing or if this was his plan all along, but…he is not responding to Jules’s treatments anymore. He is in the final stages of the plague.”

“Jules.” The name rang a bell. “The doctor.”

“Yes. Jules.” Asra bit his lip. “I want to ask you something, Hani. But first…to do this ritual, we will all need to…do something that will…” He searched my eyes. “Its…its not going to be easy. I will have to make a decision that…I don’t want to make. But. I want to make sure it is the right one before I do. I just…I need to know, Hani.”

“What is it?”

“I want…I want to know if you love him.”

“Him?”

“Ilya. Jules. Do you love him?”

I thought. A memory came back to me in bits and pieces. A devilish grin. Grey eyes. Red rope. The flat of my hand against a broad back. Light dustings of freckles. A moan, and me, with him, my hand closing over a throat, my fingers against the vibrations as the sounds were made. That auburn hair jerking forward each time that I…

I returned my eyes to Asra’s. “Yes.”

Something flickered in Asra’s eyes. His smile held, even if his brows raised at the center. “I…I see.”

I laced my fingers through his, and took up his other hand as well. He leaned his forehead against mine and breathed out a sigh. “Is that all you needed to know?”

“Yes.”

“Can you stay here with me? Even if for a little while?”

“Yes. I…I want to stay here with you, as long as I can. I feel like so much of time that could have been spent together…was foolishly wasted.” He raised his eyes to mine. “I want to do what I can to make up for it. I want…to give you all of me. While I can.”

He shifted, canting his head just so, and his lips brushed against mine. I smiled my approval before he kissed me, and it was as if he was kissing me for the first time. Such gentle touches, so light and barely there, but enough to give me a bit of that gloss he wore. I flicked out my tongue to taste it, then pulled him close and kissed him again. His hands released mine to loop about me, with one to cup the back of my head. I relished in the sensation of his fingers exploring me. How I’d missed his touch.

He parted to pull at my hands, to lead me from the beach itself. We headed back to the crossroads. “Where can we go, where we can just be alone? No adventures, no risks. Just us, and tonight.”

I thought, then led him down a path I seldom took. I always thought it was a boring route, but I knew it would provide a relaxing vista for the night. The meadows turned into a garden that was run through by a brook. We crossed wooden bridges through the firefly lit paths under purple willows.

Several paths converged towards a structure that was built from bent and interwoven trees. Leaves of various shades of purple flowed down the sides, creating curtains over natural openings. I pulled Asra through one of the openings to discover the inside was furnished by a plush set of floor couches. Warm coals rested in a pit between them. Cushions littered the ground here and there. The entire thing was lit by twinkling lights with no origin, clustered in the canopy of the structure.

There was wine, and some bread and cheese. Little bottles of perfumes and oils were placed on a tray by one of the couches. Flower petals were strewn here and there. We looked up to see flowers bloom from the ceiling. Their vines dripped down close to us until I could pluck one. I tucked it behind one of Asra’s ears. He chuckled.

“As beautiful as always,” I murmured.

We sat on one of the couches, drawing ourselves into crosslegged poses. We dined on the bread and cheese, and savored dark wine that tasted of berries. We leaned close to each other, and at some point I was shoulder to shoulder with him, and rested my head against him.

He was captivated by this strange little gazebo. The walls flowered with blue and purple blooms. Fragrant air surrounded us, and the heat the coals gave off flickered in mesmerizing patterns.

“Does this place truly exist, or did you make it appear this way?”

“I don’t know.”

He tipped my chin up and kissed me again, and I let him. I missed the taste of him, the smell of him. Honey and sea salt. Maybe a little bit of vanilla. My fingers were splayed against his neck and jaw, drawing him closer to me, over me. I lay back against some of the cushions and let him settle his weight between my legs, which I wrapped about him. My hands trailed up his back, and I took a moment to truly appreciate him.

The muscle under soft skin, his arms, bare and strong, easing him down upon me. His hands as one took up my own and pressed fingers upon fingers, palm against palm. His lips when he raised my hand to them and pressed a kiss to the center. I pulled his hands to me, above me with mine, so he had no choice but to kiss me once more. We fell into a laze, his lips and tongue with my own, gentle. Sweet.

We both had the same idea at the same time, and he rose to untie the wrap as my fingers did the same. We shared a laugh, and he let me up to untie it and shrug it off. He kicked off the swim briefs to show that he was already half hard. I looped my legs over his and, with my arms supporting me from behind, rose up to grind myself into his lap. Asra’s lips parted, his eyes closed…he hardened between us, little by little.

I lay back down again and reached over to that tray. I handed a vial of something to him and used it on himself, on me, all the while pressing kisses to my lips, my chin, my throat. Those heavily lashed eyes looked me over as he aligned himself to my entrance and slid inside. He took in how I arched. How I moaned. How I tilted my chin and how every muscle within me flickered as the sensation overtook my nerves.

“I love you, Hani,” he whispered. “With all my heart.”

His hand was on the skin above my heart as he thrust into me, the movement soft and slow. He wanted to take his time, and nothing in this realm could distract me from him. I could feel every slide, every push. I relished in the heat of his body pressed into mine, the way his thighs slid under mine, the way his hair brushed my forehead time and again.

I moaned again and again, the sound delicious even to my own ears. He was nearly silent, like always, and I knew it was because he wanted to hear me. He once again settled against me, his lips against my neck, and let me loop my arms under his to clasp him close.

Something returned to me, in those moments. Somewhere between when he panted a moan against my collarbones, and when his fingers curled in my hair. I…I remembered him. I remembered how…how much…how much I…

I remembered seeing him in the kitchen. He was trying to explain to me how to make something. _What was it_? He was creating something with noodles. Little round ones. The spoon he held had cheese on it. I don’t remember the words, but he was putting…

And I remembered him, laying in bed with me. The window was open. _It was so cold_. He’d laughed and drew the blankets over us, over our heads. We summoned light between our fingertips, and…

Then we were in the bath. He rested against the wooden back of the rub, a towel rolled up to support his neck. I was laying against his chest, my back to him. _It smelled of lemongrass._ His fingers were tracing patterns on the wet skin of my shoulder, and I…

I was laughing. We were in the market. His hand was about my waist. _We were buying herbs that day_. He had pressed his fingers to that spot on my hip, and I’d laughed. He laughed into my neck, even as I tried to squirm away…

I…

“I love you, Asra.”

He drew up, enough to look me in the eyes. He was on the edge, as was I.

“So much.”

He shook his head, but then ducked it as he released within me. His voice cried out my name, and his hips pressed into me as his limbs shook. He regained enough of himself a second later to thrust again, and then he pulled me into release as well. My name was a whisper upon his lips as he bade me to let go. His hand brushed back my hair and traced my cheekbones, and I knew he watched every flicker on my face until it was gone with a gasp.

I felt myself relax bit by bit under his touch. He rocked against me for a minute or two more before pulling away, and then he drew a throw over us. I was aware of him pressing kisses, lazy and lingering, on my jaw and neck. I thought, perhaps, that something troubled him, for he rested his head against my chest and spent a long time thinking, his lashes blinking too much for a sated person.

“Shh,” I brushed my fingers through his hair. “Whatever it is…it can wait.”

He shut his eyes, and the sound of our heartbeats lulled each other to sleep.


	19. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return.
> 
> Okay. I wanted to get this chapter done before school starts tomorrow, and it is done. There is more, and of course more will be posted as the game updates, but please note that I am going to an advanced paced college and won't have much time for updating.
> 
> If you do leave comments, I will respond. I love this game! You can find me at dottiesfantrash on Tumblr, too.

Asra had left me with a kiss and a promise that he would see me soon, and then, I could go with him wherever he went. I waved him away as we stood on the beach. He disappeared and…

Once again, I felt into that place of nevermind.

The beach was on the precipice of turgid, with coarser waves and darkened skies. Shooting stars filtered through the clouds to drip into the waters far into the horizon. Their splashes spit up sprays of colorful energy, like fireworks, as if the sea had something to celebrate.

The Fool sat there, watching the waves. I came down and sat next to him, and for a moment, we were content to sit in silence with each other’s company.

“I’ve ruled this realm as far as I can remember, and, I know, when time ceases to be, I will just be back at the beginning, for there is no birth and death here,” he said, finally. I looked to him, but his eyes were still on the sea’s horizon. “I’ve gone down every path infinite times. I have seen all this realm, and all that every other Arcana realm, has to offer, and I have grown bored. There is no adventure to it anymore, and no thrill. The choices are plain to see, and while some would delight in knowing they are safe and secure in such a state, I cannot thrive in it.”

“What do you mean?” This realm did not bore me at all. I found delight in every twist and turn, and always wished to continue exploring, no matter the danger.

“I had a friend, once. His name was Scout. Perhaps you know him? My little dog?”

“Ah, yes. I was wondering about him.”

“He always came and got me whenever I got too lost. He’d always guide me back to the crossroads. With him, I knew I was never in any true danger. With him by my side, my steps were always sure. But after eons, I found I did not need him. I knew, no matter what, that I would always return. I knew I could always find my way.” The Fool paused. “I have not seen him in ages. Perhaps he has found someone else to guide. Perhaps he knows…there is no place for him here.”

“I am sure he still cares for you, if you are friends as you say.”

The Fool gave me a smile that told me he did not believe me. “But then you came along, Hani. And I am dedicated to helping you. No mortal human has ever mirrored my energy so exactly as you have. I enjoyed seeing this realm through your eyes. I found delight in seeing it as if I had never seen it before. If I could be selfish, I’d keep you here forever, but you cannot stay. Your friends have completed the ritual, and it is time for you to go.”

“But Asra just left?” I motioned to where Asra had been standing. He’d explained the ritual to me several times that night, until I couldn’t help but remember.

“Even so. Your time here has come to an end. Your promised rebirth is upon you.” He motioned before us. A doorway, tall and rectangular, was carving itself with a thread-thin ray of light through the scenery. The waves passed through it as if it were not there, until the carving slid down to create a rectangle. Then the carved out space disappeared into a slab of white light. “Each of them has promised something in return for you…as have you.”

I looked to him. “What do you mean? What have I possibly given?”

“It isn’t what you have given. Its what you will give. As soon as you cross through that door, it will be taken. That is why you have the symbol on the palms of your hands.” I raised my palms up, and the symbols glowed. He gently touched one with his fingers. “The journey will start anew. Have you decided that this is what you wanted to do?”

I closed my fingers over my palms. The light of the symbols filtered through my clenched hands. “If I never go back, I will never see Jules or Nadia or Muriel again. And Asra…” I thought of how sorrowful he looked when we parted. Of how he had placed his hand over his heart. “I need to be with them. They’ve given so much for me. But even so…when I was there, I saw all the things I had taken for granted in life. I missed every part of it…even the parts that were unpleasant. They made the pleasant parts that much more poignant. I…want to live once more.”

The Fool smiled, but there was no reply to what I said. The light of the door ebbed slightly, revealing a high ceiling, and four faces framing the door’s opening. It was them. Jules and Asra. Muriel and Nadia. Their eyes were shut and…

I stepped closer, to the door’s edge. The Fool did as well. I could see my friends better now. They all wore rather extravagant costumes, and I realized that this waswas  night of the yearly masquerade Symbols glowed upon their persons. On Nadia, on her forehead. One lit up the delicious curve of Jules’s throat. The space above Asra’s heart was etched with the finished symbol. And Muriel…I could not see it directly, but the space behind his shoulder glowed, giving away his symbol’s location.

“I don’t understand.” I turned to The Fool. I raised my hands. “Where…where is the body? I thought…”

The Fool motioned to himself. “Its me, Hani. You have been one of the best friends I have come to know, and a part of me wishes to give back to you the joy you have given me. And…I crave something new. Your world promises new experiences of which I can only imagine. By giving you my body, I will be able to see and do…and life anew.”

“But your kind never crosses over to our realm!”

“Perhaps I can.”

“And what if you cannot?”

The Fools smiled. “And then that is just another lesson learned.”

He turned and reached his hand out to the opening. I grabbed onto his wrist to stop him, but instead of being able to pull him back, my touch…allowed him to push through. But then…something strange happened.

Our touch converged at the point of the door’s barrier, and a single, glowing hand reached out into the world beyond. I felt… _I felt_ …the slight breeze of the room beyond. The Fool thrust his arm through, and with it, my own.

The four started, their eyes opening. I didn’t know if they could see us, but a hand reached forward and grabbed mine, _mine_ , and I felt them. I felt the slide of their fingers against my wrist, and I was able to latch onto theirs. I did not pass through them! They pulled, and another hand joined to grasp me.

“I can feel them!” I turned to The Fool. His eyes were shut, and a soft smile was on his lips. “Can you?”

“Yes…I can feel it! This realm…it is real to me now! Such warmth! Such cold! The contrast is…frightening, and yet…unlike anything I have ever come to know…” He opened his eyes to look upon me. “This is it, Hani. I can tell it will not be easy, the path before you. Before _us_. But…I know that, if anyone can do this, it can be you. I am glad that you have agreed to this. I once said that it is not up to us Arcana to decide who is worthy, but I have come to believe that of all who have ever called upon me, you have been the most worthy.

“It is time to live.”

More hands grabbed onto us. Brown hands on our bicep. Pale hands on our elbow. One large hand over another smaller, honeyed one, and then…

We were yanked through, spirit and body both as one. I collided upon someone, and felt bare arms wrap about me. Coldness grasped me in a painful embrace, and my throat produced a cry of shock at it, the voice a malformation of two voices instead of one. Voices rang out about me, and some of those warm touches left me…and I was left, shivering and as naked as a newborn babe, in someone’s warm embrace.

The light of the door faded, and it closed, sealing off the Arcana realm from where it opened in the center of this…towering room.

The person holding me raised my chin. I did not understand, then, what I saw, but I would come to know this shape as Asra’s face. Sound came from it, and I soon would learn that these were words. “Hani….Hani…it is you, it worked…Hani, can you hear me…”

A voice that was not mine spoke from me for the first time in this body. “Ah, to see this realm as it is…is such a delightful experience. To see your face, as he would.” My hand, shaking and uncoordinated, reached up to press a touch to Asra’s face. I turned, and looked upon the others. “All of you, so precious and bright. I can see now. I can see how he wanted to come back here. Who am I, then, to rob him of this? Who am I, to…to take delight from you, when this realm is not for me? I shall be with him, then, but on the edge of existence. I cannot sully his path…with desires of…of my own…”

I swallowed, and the voice was gone.

Asra looked about, his face in a panic. The symbols on the people about us glowed fiercely. The woman shut her eyes and slumped in her seat before sliding down to the ground, unconscious. The other man, the tall one with the red hair…one eye was covered, but the other looked about wildly. He scrabbled to his feet and pointed towards us. “Who…” He looked about the room, and then at the Countess. “Not her too. You never saw me.”

He turned and ran. Asra called out to him. But he was gone with the clacking of heeled boots on polished marble floor.

That left the other man, who had stood to go press his back upon the far wall. His green eyes were wide, and his hands, so broad and strong looking, shook. Asra turned to him as he gripped me tighter.

“Get me a blanket, Muriel! He’s freezing!”

I was shivering violently. I had no clothes, no jewelry, no ornament to call my own. Asra’s hands rubbed at naked, hairless skin to try to produce warmth. His chin rested upon my head, which was shorn nearly bald, as the curls had only grown to a length slightly longer than a stubble. Asra pulled his shawl off to wrap about me, but I was not used to the temperatures of this world. I was not used to the sights, or the smells, which wafted from small burning sticks stuck into sand cloisters closeby.

The huge man ran off, and Asra whispered soothing words to me. They were foreign noise to my ears, but the hum of his throat against my skin got me to calm slightly. Soon the man returned, a blanket in hand…but both of us started. Asra’s arms curled about me even tighter, as if he could protect me that way. “Who are you? What are you doing in here?”

“Wh…what?” The man frowned. He looked down at the blanket. “I got the blanket like you said…”

“Don’t come any closer!” Asra cupped my head to his chest. I could see the symbol there begin to fade.

“It’s me, Asra! Muriel!” The man did step closer, defying Asra. His movement caused the smoke of the burning sticks to waft through the room. Asra blinked, even while I coughed at the smell.

“M…Muriel?” Asra’s hold on me loosened. “I…”

“Nevermind.” Muriel leaned forward and helped Asra arrange the blanket on me. My shivering ebbed, and I relaxed with a sigh against Asra’s chest. “I think I know what happened. I’ll explain later.”

“Help me get him out of here!”

Muriel hefted me out of Asra’s arms. I curled easily in his strong arms, and pressed myself against the warmth of his broad chest. Muriel looked to the unconscious woman. “What about the Countess?”

Asra looked to the woman. She turned on her side and buried her face in her arms. “She’ll be fine. I’ll come back later to check on her. We have to get Hani out of the palace.”

“Where will we go?”

“To the shop.”

Muriel nodded. “Just…stay behind me, Asra. Keep your eyes on me.”

“What? Why?”

“Just…do it. Don’t look away, not for an instant.”

Asra swallowed, but nodded. The huge man turned and led us out of the tower, and I could hear Asra’s footsteps create a light tempo behind us. We hurried out of rooms and down stairs…I didn’t know where we were. There was so much light and noise, and people rushing about in a frenzy. They ducked into darkened halls and passageways, and pushed past servants who did not expect to see them. I just knew…somehow, in the back of my mind, where only primitive thoughts had begun to form, clinging to instinct alone, that I was tired.

I fell to sleep in the giant’s arms, and I don’t know for how long I slept.

 

….

 

When I did wake, my view was of a wooden ceiling above. I stared at it, not understanding what it was that I was seeing, or even, what the act of seeing was. My body was warm and clothed in soft garments. I knew later that Asra and Muriel had dressed me in the warmest clothing they could find, which meant I was wearing a mishmash of woolen sweaters and trousers, socks and mittens, and someone had put a knit cap upon my poor bald head.

I heard a noise nearby, and I instinctively turned to it. Asra was there, and while I did not recognize him for what he was, his energy was something I did understand. I didn’t know it then, but I was reading him, and my hand made a grasping motion towards him.

He was sitting on a chair by the bed. We had been in my room. He was sleeping, slumped at an odd angle with his arms folded over his chest. His eyes were rimmed in darkness, and stubble dotted his chin and cheeks.

I stared at him, transfixed. This familiar thing in my new world…it meant so little to me in coherence but so much in ways I did not understand. I made a noise. Breath forced itself through my lungs and throat, and noise came out. I learned, then, that I could do this thing, and so, I did it again. And again. Louder. Louder still.

Asra started. He blinked, then winced. His arms unfolded and…then he looked to me. Whatever discomfort he felt was forgotten, because he got up and was by my side in an instant. He grabbed up my hand. I looked to him, but could do little else.

“Hani…” Asra pulled me up gently into a sitting position. My body was unused to the motions, and the words, but my brain, while unsure of what to do, was ready to learn. It picked up what it needed to quickly, and I found my infantile state would not last too long. Either way, he supported me with a hand on my back. He gave a smile. “You’re awake. I was…worried.”

I said nothing. My eyes were focused on his lips as he spoke. None of this made sense to me, but I knew that it must mean _something_. Lips moving. The sounds, changing. My other hand reached up instinctively…and then my attention was wrested by it. My fingers, my palm…I was transfixed. The movements I gave were meaningless, the fingers working half on their own instinct and half by my wonder.

Asra was content to sit and watch me figure it out. I realized that I had _two_ of these delightful appendages, and he let go of my other hand so I could look upon them both. Asra chuckled.

“Think I get what is happening. This body is new…and does not know how to work in this world. I suppose you have a lot of catching up to do.

Something made a noise. Something within me. I didn’t like it, and my throat made another noise. A whine. I looked to Asra, then myself.

“I suppose you would be hungry. Come on, then. Let’s get you something to eat…” He grasped a hand and pulled me up. My feet touched the ground, but my legs were gelatin beneath me. I did not stand, and Asra found himself grasping me to him as my weight nearly caused us to both crash down. He fumbled and managed to get me back on the bed. “This was easier with Muriel around…”

He panted when he was sure I was seated. “Okay. Um…perhaps I should bring some food up here then. You haven’t eaten in days and…you’re probably starving.” That noise came again. A whimper left me. “Right. Just…here…” He helped me to move back on the bed, and propped me up with some pillows. Something in his face wasn’t right, but I didn’t know the differences in faces that a person could give. Wetness rimmed his eyes.

He brushed it away with a finger and hurried out the door.

I waited, and let my hands preoccupy me. I wondered at how I thought of a movement, and then my hands performed it. I didn’t even understand what the movements _were_ , or even what my thoughts _were._ They had no words to them, no form. Just…plain thought, nothingness, from which reality was formed.

Asra returned with a bowl of something white and mushy. Golden something, melted and clear, sat on top of it. I could smell it, and that noise within me rumbled anew. I reached for it on instinct, but could not grasp the bowl. Asra sat next to me and took up a spoonful. He looked to it. “Forgive me for having to treat you this way, Hani. I know you are capable of more…I suppose we will both have to be patient.”

He pressed the spoon to my lips, and I didn’t quite grasp the concept of what he was doing. He frowned, then managed to get the spoon between the seam of my lips, then deposited some of…whatever it was…on my tongue. My eyes widened at the sensation of it, and my tongue instinctively tried to get more of whatever it was in my mouth. I pressed the substance to the roof of my mouth, and swallowed some. Asra laughed.

“Mashed potatoes,” Asra said. “With a bit of butter.” He grabbed up another spoonful and tried again, but I was more than willing to open my mouth this time. I hungrily ate the whole bowl, little by little, even if a lot did get spilled. Asra patiently wiped up the mess with a napkin and sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes, Hani, to get you back to normal. However long it takes.”

He set the empty bowl on the nightstand. “I can’t believe it worked.” He looked to me. I just sat there and listened. He smiled. “I am glad you are back. Its been…a rough couple of years. But you are back and…well, I know none of this makes sense to you, but the woman I spoke to, she said infants…and I know you are not an infant…learn by being spoken to, and by being shown things. Everything I say is gibberish to you, but…one day it will all make sense. You have to re-learn everything. How to walk, how to talk.” He chuckled when I looked to my hands and returned to practicing motions with them. “How to read and write.”

“I’ll be here for it all, Hani. I’ll help you in any way I can. And Muriel too. Although…I think he’s frightened. He has always been frightened of magic, but, he accepts it. He said he would help, especially since I can’t exactly lift you…I…” I heard a noise, and my eyes went to the door. “That’s probably him, then.” He motioned to a small pouch tied to his belt. “Turns out he gave up being known. I don’t understand all of his choice, or the extent of it, but…imagine forgetting your longest friend. More than once. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He got up and left once more. I heard sounds from somewhere, but again, they were meaningless. I began to grow tired, and…fell asleep. The days would pass like this. Sleep, eat. Discovering new things that weren’t so new, but were knew to me. The words that Asra spoke began to make sense, and while I could not form them myself, I could understand him.

My command of my arms and hands grew, and soon, Asra did not have to spoonfeed me. I took on the task myself, even if I wasn’t graceful with it. Walking was still hard. Muriel would come by and help me to my feet downstairs, and we’d take steps. Wobbly, uncoordinated, weak steps, until I collapsed and cried in exhaustion and frustration.

One of these such days ended with me in bed, my arms crossed, my eyes upon the window. By this time, my hair had grown. Eyebrows and eyelashes had come in, and Asra took time every day to make sure my cheeks and chin were cleanshaven. I had learned early on not to move when he did this.

“I know its frustrating, Hani,” Asra said softly. I wouldn’t look at him. “But you are doing…so much better. Patience is hard. But soon…you won’t need my help to do any of this.”

I huffed. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to tell him that I wanted to be able to move on my own, with no help at all. But all that came out was, “No.”

“No?”

I looked to Asra. He sat on the corner of the bed with an amused smile. That angered me more. “No!”

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t like it, Hani. Its how this works. I have nothing to do with…”

I growled, my lips pressing together. Something fired within me. Anger. Frustration. Pain. I was tired of this. It had only been a few months and yet…my fists clenched. “No!”

One of the oil lamps on the nightstand flared hotly. The glass cracked before the flame died down. Asra and I both blinked at it, surprised. He reached over and turned down the flame until it sputtered out. The room darkened. “I…see.”

I pointed to the lamp. “How?”

“Its magic, Hani. You were…hmm…” Asra hesitated and pressed his fingers to his lips in thought. “It’s magic. I can teach you, Hani. If you wish to learn it. But like everything else, its going to take time. And patience. Its obvious you have the skill for it. A natural ability to tap into it. I don’t know why I’m surprised but…learning to harness it is a lengthy process.”

I brought my hand to my face and mimicked the gesture he’d taken. He saw me and laughed, then scratched his fingers through his hair. I did the same…and frowned.

The curl there was longer now, but it…felt wrong. I took a few moments to feel the texture of my hair, to run my fingers through it. Asra smiled and then dug into a drawer of the dresser, and produced a mirror. He came up onto the bed beside me and held it before my face.

I gasped.

I’d…never seen myself before. For a moment, I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking at. Asra touched his fingers to my cheek, and I flinched at the contact. I quickly worked out that what I saw reflected what was happening to me, and thus, what I saw _was_ me. Skin darker than Asra’s. A nose, wider than asra’s. Full lips. Wide cheekbones. Wide eyes, brown at the center. Rounded chin, on a diamond shaped face. Black curls grew from my head in an even length.

I touched my hand to every part of me, and smiled.

“It’s you, Hani.”

“Me.” I laughed. I liked this face and yet…

My smile faded. It was strange, to me. I didn’t know why but…I thought, how could this be my face? Was it truly _my_ face? Was this who I was? Something told me that I once…was not like this. Perhaps, once, I was something more. I frowned and pushed the mirror away. I didn’t know how to voice these concerns when Asra asked me what was wrong. “No.”

Asra set the mirror away. “I suppose it…isn’t what you want to see. Perhaps we can fix it. Tomorrow I can…have someone come over who can help.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just shimmied myself to lay down to sleep. Asra let me curl up beside him. His presence always comforted me, and he never complained. He would stroke his fingers through my hair until I slept. I always knew that I was safe there, as long as he was with me.

The next day I woke up late. I could hear Asra talking with someone downstairs, but it wasn’t Muriel. Asra came upstairs to help me get ready, and I was able to walk somewhat by leaning on him. He helped me wash up and get dressed, and then slowly, painfully slowly, helped me down the stairs. A woman stood perusing items in the shop, but I was taken to the back room, where breakfast waited. Bread and tea, cooled to just the right temperature.

“Small bites,” Asra reminded me. The first few times I had tried to eat solid food, I’d nearly choked on it. I’d learned that lesson long ago, but he still felt the need to remind me. He went out and talked to the woman while I ate.

“…was sick for a while. His hair is coming back, but I know he likes it…different. If you could show me how to do it, until he can…”

I looked down at my food, then drank some tea. Asra came in some time later with the lady in tow. She gave me a warm smile and set down a bag on the table. “Hani, this kind lady is going to help us with your hair. I know you like things a bit more colorful, so…perhaps today we can both learn how to make you…you again.”

I looked to the lady, but nodded.

The lady gently ran her hand though my hair and noted the length. She explained to us both that if we wanted it to grow out – and I made an affirmative noise to that – she could braid it and then use other hair to make it look longer now. She pulled blue braided wefts from her bag.

I pointed to it excitedly. “Yes!”

They both chuckled. They made sure I was comfortably seated, and then the lady began to braid my hair along my scalp. I watched her with use of a mirror as I ate my breakfast. Asra sat there, against the table, deep in thought. He asked questions now and again, and the lady was nice enough to tell him her hair secrets.

When she was done, she took a little tool from her bag and used it to begin looping the braided blue through my hair. I watched as, little by little, the blue took over my head. It draped down past my shoulders and cascaded over my chest. The weight was strange to me, but wonderful. She was only halfway through when I turned to Asra, excited.

He smiled.

I let her finish. Blue braids fell into my face. The lady showed us how I could push them to one side of the other. I could pull them up to a ponytail. Knot them on top of my head. I could even braid all the braids together as one large braid.

Asra thanked her and gave her money. She told us how to take care of them, and when to see her again to make them look like new. She said that if we needed more help, to call on her again. And then, she was gone.

But I was still looking at myself in the mirror. I played with the braids, and admired how my face looked with the hue upon my skin. I trailed my fingers over them, then over my cheekbones, and down to the hollow of my throat. I still felt strange with this face, but…it was beginning to feel like _me._

“Hani…”

I looked up to Asra. Something flickered in his face. He cleared his throat and looked away. I knew I had to say something. It had to be more than one word. But it was hard. I struggled for a moment.

“I…” I thought. “I like this.” I pointed to myself in the mirror. “Hani…this is Hani…”

“I know.” He slid into a seat across from me. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You are starting to feel like you again.”

“Not done though.” I looked to the mirror. Something was missing. I looked to Asra. I remembered how, sometimes, he would put black make up on his lashes. Some days he would put powders and creams on his whole face. I pointed to my eyes, then my lips. “More.”

“Oh, um…” Asra ran his hands on the tablecloth. “I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He got up and went upstairs. He came back with vials and tubs in his arms. He set them out in front of me, and pointed out what each one was. I waited patiently as he brushed blue lightly over my lids, and then put some of that black upon my lashes. He seemed to know what I liked. There was a mauve upon my lips. A golden hue upon my cheekbones, all light in application. He brushed powder into my brows, thickening them. He even used a pencil to darken the freckles I had begun to grow. The touch made my squinch my nose. We laughed.

And yet, it wasn’t all done. I looked to Asra, to the necklace and choker he wore. I looked to myself, and pointed to my ears.

‘That…will be a little harder, Hani. Your ears aren’t pierece any…they aren’t pierced.” He gently touched my earlobes.

“Fix.”

“I suppose we can. It will hurt.”

“Yes. Fix.” I set down the mirror and waited.

Asra looked to the shop door nervously. I saw him use it from time to time, and I was never allowed to go with him when he did. I didn’t know what was beyond that door, and I wanted to know. But Asra always said that I was not ready.

“Maybe…maybe another time, Hani.”

My displeasure must’ve been easily read on my face, for Asra was already trying to calm me down. I pushed him away. “Want to go.”

“You aren’t ready, Hani…”

“Want to go now.” I stood from the chair. That much I could do. It was what came after that was hard. I made it a few steps before my knees buckled. I grabbed onto the wall and slid down it. Asra was quick to be at my side, but I just pushed him away. My braids fell into my face. Tears mussed up the work Asra had done to my face. I bent my forehead to the floor and cried.

Asra gently pulled me close, even though I resisted him at first. I curled up in his arms. He never chastised me for crying, and I cried a lot during those first few years. I cried because…I knew that this was all wrong. Something was missing. Everything was missing. I didn’t know it was missing, and I didn’t know what it was. But…it hurt to not know. And every time, he was there, holding me.

“Why?” I asked him. Why me? Why this? Why so…so painful? Why was I so helpless? Why…why…?

“Shh,” Asra said. “It will be okay, Hani. We’ll get through this. I promise…we’ll go. And…I know, as soon as we do, nothing will stop you again.” He pressed a smiling kiss to my forehead. “Nothing will ever hold you back…”

I looked to the door through my tears. It would take a long time before we did go. Months of me taking painful steps. Months of me trying to put words together. Months of Asra showing me letters in books, and showing me the sounds they made. How they made words. Frustration after frustration came at me. But like he said…I was always able to overcome the challenge.

One day, I sat reading in the back room. The book was a child’s book, but I was _determined_ to learn it. It had chapters. I was proud of myself for at least getting this far.

Asra slipped in and set a small box on the table in front of me. I looked at it, then at him as he sat in the chair opposite of me. “What is that?”

“Open it.”

I did. Inside lay two gold framed stud earrings. The centers were bezel set, faceted blue gems. I looked to them, then to Asra. “But my ears aren’t pierced.”

“I thought that, today, we could go and change that.” He smiled again. He was…he was _excited_. “They’ll look beautiful on you, don’t you think? I…know you’ve been working so hard, Hani. You’ve come so far and…I promised you we would go get them done. And I haven’t forgotten. If…if you still want to go, that is.”

“Yes!” I grabbed them up and stood. I was better on my feet now, even though I did use a cane most days. Asra got up and hovered as if I would fall, but I stepped away and back into the shop. I only wavered once, and used the counter to support me for a moment. I took in the gems, and could imagine them set in my ears. I turned to Asra with a grin. “Yes!”

“Alright then, we’ll go.” He helped me put on a jacket and shoes. It was easier for me to do these things now, but I think he still liked to help. I let him, sometimes, not because I couldn’t do it. But because I knew he liked to take care of me.

He wound a shawl about his shoulders and put on that silly hat he liked to wear. He looped my arm though his, and opened the door.

The light outside was bright, and for a moment I was blind because of it. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, and offered me his hat. I looked to it, then to him. “No, Asra. It looks better on you.”

“You really think so?”

I scoffed. “Sure.”

He made a face, and I laughed.

He led me out onto streets paved with stone. People I didn’t know walked about, and some stopped to look at us as we passed. I was fascinated by all of it. Several times, Asra had to pull me along, as I had stopped to stare at someone. A baby, which I had never seen. A child. Two people, standing in a corner, pressing their faces and mouths together.

‘What are they doing?” I said. I pointed.

“They’re…they’re kissing.” Asra hurried me along.

“Why?” I frowned.

“Its what people do when they’re in love.”

“But why?”

Asra chuckled. “You sound like a toddler.”

“Really, Asra. Why?”

His face took on that look. The strange look, like he was remembering something painful. “It feels good. It makes people feel…connected, somehow. As if their bodies could be one.”

“And they want that because…they are in love?”

“Sometimes. Not all the time.”

“What does in love mean?”

His face pinched a bit. “It means…” He thought, and fumbled for the words. “I am not really sure.”

I blinked, but we were already moving on. Walking made me tired, and we took moments here and there to let me rest. Asra kept asking me if I wanted to turn back, but I didn’t. I ran my fingers over the box in my pocket. Asra had been…so kind to get me the earrings. I wanted to see them on.

I wanted him to see them on me.

We made it to wherever we were going. A small shop. Asra let me take a seat inside, and he went to speak to a man behind the counter there. I stared at the man. His skin was lined with drawings from his wrist all the way to his chin. Large holes had been punched through his ears, and rings the size of wine glasses held the holes open. Asra had taken the earrings with him, and showed them to the man. The man nodded and motioned for us to follow him.

I was made to sit in a chair, and the man brought some sharp looking instruments over. I stared at them on their tray, my eyes wide, but the man was putting something on my ears that smelled like alcohol. He’d also put that alcohol-smelling stuff on the backs of the earrings. He took up one of the sharp instruments and told me to count to four.

“One, two…” Pain lanced my ear, and I would have jolted right out of the chair had Asra not been holding my shoulders. It left almost as soon as it had happened, and I felt pressure and a dull ache as the man set to screwing something into my earlobe. “Ow!”

“Done.” The man was gruff in his demeanor.

I looked to Asra. “That hurt!” I reached up to touch my ear, but Asra pulled my hand down.

‘Don’t touch it just yet.”

“Why?”

“Keep it sanitary,” the man said. I suddenly realized he was hovering by my other ear, but by the time I had realized it, he’d poked that sharp instrument through the other lobe.

“Ow! You didn’t even let me count this time!”

They both chuckled, and the man screwed the other earring into my ear. He stepped back and handed a mirror to Asra. Asra held it up for me, and my pain was momentarily forgotten.

The gems glittered by my face, and while small, helped me feel just that much more complete. I smiled at my reflection. The braids had been changed out several times, and were now a darker, more glittery hue of blue. I’d learned to do my face on my own, and now with the earrings…

“I’m beautiful,” I said to myself.

“Yes. You are.”

I smiled to Asra. The man returned to give us instructions on how to care for the piercings, including if one should fall out. Come right back here, and don’t try to put it in myself. “You don’t want an infection,” he said gruffly. He took Asra’s coin and motioned for us to go.

Asra handed him the mirror and helped me up. He had to stop me from trying to touch my ears a few times as we walked, and once we had to stop so he could fasten my braids so they didn’t catch on my sensitive ears. He then looped his arm about my waist and held me close as we walked.

I liked that. He’d never done this before. I looked to him. He seemed…pleased.

“Thank you, Asra.”

His eyes turned to me, and I think he realized how close we were then. He let go of me to take my arm. I tried not to look disappointed. I wanted to say something about it, but…

I smelled it.

The most delicious smell I’d ever smelled came to me, and Asra was forgotten for a moment. I turned away from him, or tried to, as his arm looped in mine stopped me. I pointed towards where the smell was coming from. “What is _that?”_

“The smell?” Asra looked to where I pointed, then smirked. “Let’s find out, shall we?” He steered us towards it, and I could have bolted towards the smell if he’d let me. We came upon a stall in a rather loud and bustling area – and the crowd was starting to wear me thin – with trays of bread and pastries on display. Asra went to the little half door there and knocked. Someone poked their head out and gave me a wide eyed stare.

“Hani! You’re back!” He leaned against the half door. “I could have sworn you were-“

“Hani wanted some of that delicious bread,” Asra said, cutting him off. He gave me a little wink. “You know the one. Hani’s _favorite_.”

“Right! Of course!” The man disappeared and reappeared with two paper wrapped loaves of bread. Asra went to hand him a coin, but he refused it. “No. I couldn’t. Its on the house. I am just glad to see that you are both alright.” His eyes returned to mine. He took me in as if…well…

As if he were looking upon a ghost.

It struck me odd, but I took the loaf of bread he offered me, and Asra took the other. We turned away, but I was too distracted by my thoughts to eat. “Asra?”

“Hmm?” Asra had unwrapped his bread and was breaking off a morsel. He offered it to me, but I shook my head. “What’s wrong, Hani?”

“How come everyone here is looking at me strange?” We came to a stop. And people _were_ looking at me strange. At first, I thought they were looking at _us_ strange, but when they met my eyes…

Some people looked away and hurried on, their faces frightened. Some held my gaze, their mouths agape before they managed a nervous smile or wave. Some held shock blatantly apparent on their faces, and stopped in their tracks to watch as I walked by.

“Am I…am I strange?” I looked down at myself. The clothes that I had found in Asra’s closet were to my tastes, and I had no qualms in making beautiful outfits from them. Today I wore a white shirt, over which I’d draped a sparkling shawl. I wore blue sateen trousers, and then, gold sandals. Perhaps it was a little outlandish, but…

“No, Hani. You remember what I said about you being sick?”

“Yes?”

“You were…sick for a long time,” Asra said. Something about how he said it made me think he wasn’t telling me the whole truth. “And a lot of people didn’t see you for a long time. They are just…surprised to see you well.”

“How long was I sick?”

“For a few years.”

I thought back. My memories grew hazy after just a few months. I remembered…waking up on the bed, dressed in warm but mismatched knits. Hazy memories of learning things. The night I had cried when I had tried to walk out the door, but fell.

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“No.”

‘What about…what about before then?”

I thought. I thought _hard_. I thought until…” Ow…” I winced, then groaned. Pain wracked my head. I shut my eyes and pressed my palms over them. Something glowed, but Asra was wrapping me in his arms and leading me off. I stumbled a bit, so he led me to a quiet spot with a bench and let me sit. I rested against the bench back and let him dote on me. He bade me to eat something, and for the first time in months, I let him feed me.

My head pounded. It felt like there was a band wrapped about it, and it was growing tighter, or maybe, like my skull was too small, and my brain was swelling within.

After a few moments, the pain subsided. I opened my eyes amidst speckles of aura light in my vision. Asra sat beside me, worried. “Are you alright, Hani?”

I nodded. The movement caused a bit of pain to resurface. “Just a headache.”

“Even so…I think we should head back.”

“How come…how come I can’t remember anything, Asra?” I searched his eyes. “I…am obviously grown. Even if I was sick, shouldn’t I have had a life before then? Was…was the sickness so bad that I just…forgot everything?”

Asra swallowed. “Sometimes illness can be so great, it can do that.”

“Is there a way to remember again?”

“I don’t know. Come on.” He helped me to my feet, and, with his arm about my shoulders, helped me get back home. I nearly collapsed into bed with exhaustion once there, and I allowed Asra to wipe my face clean and help me get changed, even though I had grown to do those things on my own. He helped me recline so I did not hurt my ears, and once again lay there with me, stroking my hair until I slept.

I dreamed of two white hounds. They were hunting through the woods, rushing after the woodland creatures there. A fox ducked into the brush and down into a burrow. A black bird took flight just before snapping jaws could close on it. A cat ran up a tree, where an owl perched, hooting a tease upon the hounds. A bear roared from the woods, chasing the dogs away. They turned to the last creature. A familiar one. It bounded for a stream, and was about to dive in when the hounds caught it.

They tore it apart.


	20. Familiar Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asra is hiding something, but what else is new.

Asra kissed me one day.

I don’t think he meant to.

We had been lying in bed, enjoying the warmth each other gave off before we’d have to get up and open shop. Asra’s store of coins was about run out, and he said he wanted to save the last bit of it for emergencies. We had opened shop some time ago, after Asra was sure that I had a good grasp on magic. I was happy to help customers, but now we had to get up early to let them in.

I was curled into Asra, like always. One of my hands was under his chin, my fingers lax. I had opened my eyes to see him there. He was smiling. He’d just woken up, and I could see he was still heavily in his dreams. I will always wonder what that dream was about, because he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

Just as soon as he had done it, he stopped. I looked into wide violet eyes. Mine were wide as well. For a moment, neither of us did anything. But then, he was shaking his head.

He scrambled to get out of the bed.

“Asra…”

“I shouldn’t have done that, Hani. I’m sorry. It wasn’t appropriate…”

I sat up. Asra was doing this a lot. Our hands would brush together, and he would say it wasn’t right. I’d lean into him, and he told me that I shouldn’t. He’d apologized when he caught himself doing the same. His eyes would turn away from me. He refused to look at me sometimes.

I watched him as he pulled on a wrap. He grabbed clothes and went to change in the bathroom. I looked down at myself. I wore a long sleeping tunic. My thighs were bare, and stockings were rolled up past my knees. I rubbed my face with my hands, and brushed back my hair. It had grown in so well, and I no longer used the twists and braids. I had dyed it a peacock blue. A few pieces were braided and beaded with gold threads woven in.

Asra didn’t come back into the room when he was done. He hurried down the stairs. I heard him messing around in the kitchen. I got up and didn’t bother to change, and followed him. I leaned in the doorway, my arms crossed. He pointedly ignored me as he began breakfast. Despite his sharp movements, the breakfast was going to be an elaborate one. He did this when he was feeling guilty about something.

“How come you don’t love me, Asra?”

Asra ‘s hands stilled on a spoon. His eyes were fixed on a bowl with ingredients already poured into it. “I’ll…I’ll make you some pancakes, Hani.”

“Why don’t…am I not good enough for you? Is it because…I am…I was sick? Is it because you had to take care of me? Because you’re my master…”

“Don’t call me that.” Asra sighed and poked the spoon roughly into the bowl.

I scoffed and looked away. “You aren’t going to tell me. You’re going to give me an excuse and…and then you’re going to leave. You always do.” I glared at him when he did look at me, his eyes wide. “I don’t want pancakes.” I turned and headed back upstairs. I locked myself in the bathroom and drew a hot bath, which he could hear. It meant that I would not be there to help him open the shop. He’d have to do it himself. It was childish, I knew, but…its all I could think to do.

I washed up, shaved, and spent some time forming my curls where the dye had flattened them so that they’d dry correctly. I went back to the room and got dressed. I wanted to be the one to leave today. I wanted to be the one to have distance from Asra. I put on black trousers and boots, then a shirt and vest. The look was structured, and very different from my usual tastes, but for some reason I wanted to have harsh lines about me that day. Even if the shirt did have a blue stripe to it, and the vest had tonal beadwork on the welt pockets.

I didn’t do much to my face that day. Just my brows. My lashes. My ears…

I looked on the studs Asra had gotten me so long ago as they rested in the jewelry box we shared. I passed them by for some small gold hoops. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked angry and sharp. I rolled up the shirtsleeves to try and soften the look, but it didn’t help much.

I sighed at my reflection in the vanity mirror.

I didn’t like this.

I smelled the food being done downstairs, and while hungry, I didn’t want to eat. Why was Asra so confusing? It was obvious that he wanted me as much as I wanted him, but he was so…restrained. Like he was afraid of something happening to me, just by being with me. Maybe…maybe something did happen, in those years I couldn’t remember. But then…why wouldn’t he tell me what it was?

I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. The shop was already open by this time, and Asra was speaking to a customer near the counter. Another perused beaded trinkets near the other end of the counter. I cast Asra a glance but made it clear that I was heading out, and that he could not stop me. I passed by the other customer…just in time to see them slip a trinket into their coat pocket.

“Hey!” I grabbed their wrist and pulled at their hand. The trinket tumbled to the ground. The thief whirled about and produced a small blade, hardly dangerous but still a shock to see. They pointed it at my face, but for some reason, it only made my anger deepen. I glared at it, then at them. “Are you going to add assault to stealing?”

“Hani!” Asra ran up, causing me to glance to him briefly. The thief took the moment to dart out the open door. I went to give chase, but Asra grabbed my arm to halt me.

I wrestled my arm away and glared at him. “He’s getting away!”

“Let him go!” Asra pushed the door shut and dragged in air, his eyes shut. He looked to me. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that guy was going to get away with stealing, that’s what!” I motioned to the door. “Now he got away! What’s wrong with you, Asra?”

Asra ignored me and bent to pick up the trinket. He held it up to me. “Your life isn’t worth a trinket, Hani.” He set it back on the counter and brushed past me, bristling. The other customer he had been talking to watched us with wide eyes. Asra apologized to her for the inconvenience.

“What is it worth, then?” I scoffed when Asra glared in slight annoyance. “You don’t know. I’m going out.”

“Out where?”

“Out!” I unlocked the door and left. I heard it slam behind me. It didn’t matter where I went. I could go wherever I wanted. He had no control over me. I could do anything I wanted. I could…I could…

I halted after a few more steps. I didn’t want to go anywhere. Wherever I went, no matter where I went, the same pain would be there when I returned. I shook my head to the thought and pressed on. I headed off to the market, even though I didn’t want to buy anything. People greeted me here and there, and I conversed with a few.

They kept saying they were glad to see me doing well. They were happy to see me again. They wondered how I was doing.

It was fine, I guess. Until one came up and asked if I was still working at the palace.

“At the palace?” I frowned. “I never worked there.”

“Sure you did! With that one fellow. Oh, what was his name?”

“I think you may be mistaken. I never worked there.”

“Yes! I remember, because you closed your shop down…”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I brushed past them as they stuttered an argument. This…happened sometimes. Not frequently, but enough to cause me distress. I pushed through the market, through the town square, and just…kept going, until I was at the border wall. Vines had grown over it, and the exits were boarded up, but the wood had fallen away here and there. I’d…never been here. I wanted to go…but…

“Don’t.”

I halted as a huge shadow fell over me. I turned and looked up…and up…and up. The man in front of me had to be the biggest person I had ever seen. He was tall and broad…but looked like he’d seen better days. A broken chain dangled from his neck, and raggedy cloak partially obscured his face. I could see one green eye through a cascade of dark hair that hung limply in his face. Parts of scarred skin peeked out here and there from his clothing.

“Its forbidden,” was all he said. His voice was low and rumbling.

“Are you a guard or something?”

“No.”

“Then why do you care?” I pushed away a board and went to step through.

“Go back home, Hani.”

I blinked, frozen on the spot. “How do you know my name?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just go back to Asra. He must be worried about you.”

I frowned. “If you know who he is, then you will understand when I say that I don’t care.” I put my foot down on the other side of the fence…then found myself lifted up by a huge hand about my waist. I made a comical sound, my eyes wide, and for a moment didn’t know what to do. The huge fellow had picked me up and was carrying me back towards the city. I blinked, then pushed at him. “Hey! Put me down!”

“No. I’m taking you home.”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Asra lives there too.”

“Put me down! You…you don’t have a right to do this!”

“I think I do.” He kept carrying me, slung under his arm, until we reached the city proper. He set me down on a sidewalk and…turned to start going back.

“Hey!” I shouted at him, but he continued walking until he disappeared around a corner. My ire subsided little by little as soon as he was gone and…

Uh…

Who?

I scratched my head and looked about. Where was I? I looked to be on the outskirts of town, at the northern end. But…what was I doing here?” I saw the border wall, but I didn’t really…?

I turned and headed down. I didn’t remember getting this far. I remembered leaving the shop in a huff and just…walking. My legs hurt. I hadn’t walked this far in…well, ever. But I didn’t want to go home just yet. So I headed south but…away from home…and found myself in the temple district.

It was…not a nice part of the city, I could see. The buildings were in disrepair. Homeless gathered in huddles, despite the warm weather, and looked upon me with silent pleads as I passed. I had planned to go to one of the temples, although I wasn’t sure which one. But then…something caught my eye.

Or someone.

It was the thief.

They were sitting, alone, huddled up against one of the temples’ facades. I recognized their coat immediately, and they used it to wrap themselves almost completely. I sighed and looked about. Everyone here looked so…sickly. No. Just thin. Thin and desperate. How could the city allow this? How could…

I turned to look towards the palace. I could barely see the spires of its tallest towers from where I was. I sighed and searched my pockets. I had some coin with me. I approached the thief, who looked up at me and immediately recognized me. They scrabbled to their feet and tried to run…but I held up my hand. “Wait! Please…I’m not going to hurt you.”

The thief looked to me, but didn’t seem convinced.

“I didn’t…realize.” I sighed and set down a few coins on the ground. “No harm done.” I tried to give a small smile. I turned to go.

“I didn’t want to steal,” the thief said. I could hear them taking up the coins. “Its just been so hard since…well, since, _you know_.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“You aren’t from here, are you? You look western.”

Western? What did that mean? I shrugged and waved them off. I headed down the line and, at random, picked a temple. I entered to find it filled with rows of hard wooden benches. A few people sat here and there, and the place was quiet. Not eerily so, but. peaceful-like. I took a seat and just…stared ahead.

There was a large stain glass window there, depicting some deity I didn’t know. There were some candles burning at an altar there, with flowers and some food offerings. I frowned at that. The people outside could use that food. But…whatever. It wasn’t my place to judge how people worshipped.

What if I had had some religion…before? The thief had said I looked western. I’d never met someone from the west before. I did look a bit out of place in Vesuvia, even though it was a diverse place. I sighed and looked over at some of the other people. They had their hands clasped together and were muttering to themselves, probably in prayer. So, I did the same.

I didn’t know what to say. So I asked, in my mind, why I felt so very strange here. Where had my memories gone? How come Asra treated me as he did? Why did everyone treat me so…oddly? How come…when I looked in the mirror, I saw _me_ , but it did not feel like me? As if there should be something else staring back at me…or maybe, what stared back was not quite complete?

I thought of Asra. How he’d kissed me. Perhaps he had not meant to. He had just woken up. Perhaps he had been dreaming of something else. Or someone else. And he did not recognize me, and…

Or maybe he did want to kiss me. But, like all things he did, it felt as if he were holding back. Like he was scared of something. I bit my lip. It wouldn’t be right for me to assume. He should be the one to tell me. But then again…I had no right to these thoughts if he did not wish to share. He had his reasons, I was sure. But I did know that I, too, was drawn to him.

I wanted him.

I knew that. It was a recent thought, though. Only something I’d become aware of, as I took my focus from myself and noticed things I had no time to notice before. The way Asra’s presence alone made me feel calm and safe. His smile. How he was free, sometimes, when he didn’t overthink it, with letting me hold his hand or lean into him. Sometimes.

The color of his eyes. The way he dressed, the span of his shoulders, the…the…

Oh. It was I who wanted him, and not the other way around. I had no right to demand reciprocation of him, when he did not feel the same. Especially when he had done so much for me. He had welcomed me into his home. Given up his own bed to share it with me. He fed me, clothed me, took care of me…made sure I was okay. Taught me everything I knew, and he was still teaching me things.

He promised to teach me about those cards he always carried around. We were supposed to start today.

I felt a little guilty, but I could forgive myself for anger. But it was not an excuse to shut him out. Even so…I knew that I would continue to desire him. And…that was not fair to put myself through that.

Perhaps it was time to think…of finding my own place?

I got up from the pew and headed out. I hurried back to the market and managed to snag some take away before the last stall closed, as it was growing dark. I’d forgotten how huge Vesuvia was, and how long it took to get everywhere on foot. The sun had set when I turned down the street that led to the shop…and hesitated.

Asra was at the door, shawl on and hat in hand. The lantern had been hung outside, and he was closing and locking the door. I watched as he put something on it. A note.

He was going out to look for me.

I hurried up the street, and my footsteps caught his attention. His eyes widened, but then I could see that he did not know what to do now that I was there. So, he stated the obvious. “I was just going out to look for you.”

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” And I didn’t. “I was…so upset, I didn’t stop to think about it. I should have at least…” I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say. I looked down at the bag in my hand. “I got dinner.”

Asra studied me for a moment, then turned and unlocked the door. He pulled the note from it and opened the door to let me inside, and followed quietly behind me. He set the note and the hat on the shop counter while I waited, bag in both hands.

He looked to me, and I to him, and we said, at the same time. “I’m sorry…”

We halted our words.

Asra spoke first. “I’m sorry, Hani. I…don’t want to say that I confused you or led you to the wrong idea, because you were right, and I did…want…what I did. But…it was wrong for me to do so. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t be that person for you, Hani.” Asra sighed and leaned back against the counter. “At least, not right now. I am not in the position to pursue anything…romantic. It wouldn’t be fair to you to try and pretend and fail.”

“That…makes sense, I guess.” I shrugged. It was vague, but I remembered that Asra was the gatekeeper of his own heart. I could not change that, as much as I wanted to. “It was selfish of me to demand such a thing from you. And I didn’t mean to be gone all day. You’ve done so much for me, Asra. I was not acting as well as I should have.” I motioned with the bag. “Its egg salad. And sourdough. With relish. I’ll…go get the plates…” I turned to go.

Asra stepped forward and grabbed my hand. “Hani…you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I care for you, so deeply. I…want to be what you want. But I _can’t_.”

I managed a small smile. “You don’t need to be anything other than what you are.” He let go of my hand and dug his own into his pockets. “Master.”

He opened his mouth to protest the title, but I was already moving off. We ate in silence, as the hurt was still too raw between us. I knew that there was more that Asra wanted to say, but he would not say it. Not today. So I told him about where I went. I told him of the thief, and the temple, but omitted the prayer. I even said how I wanted to visit the forest, but I guess at the last minute I had decided not to. He chuckled at that, in between poking at his food.

I looked to the food, then at Asra. He seemed distracted. As if he weren’t listening. He was still lost in his thoughts. “Is something the matter?”

“Hmm?” Asra met my eyes, then returned to the bowl. “I…for a moment, Hani, I thought you really had gone. You’ve never left like that before.”

I thought of how I had begun thinking of finding my own place. But I had no money, and no job. Was I truly that unhappy here? Only one aspect of my life was unpleasant, and the rest…surely it was not that bad to want to give it all up?

“I’m sorry, Asra. I won’t do it again.”

“No, that’s not…” He sighed and sat back. “You have the right to be angry when you feel that way. And you have a right to do whatever you want. I just…I can’t change just to make you happy. Even if I really wish I could. Even if I feel that…perhaps it would be better. Perhaps…even I could be happy.”

“You are not happy?”

He blinked, as if no one had ever asked him that. “Mostly. But it isn’t for you to worry about.”

“Why not? You do so much for me. You’ve given me a roof over my head, and food, and let me wear your clothes…” I motioned to the clothes I wore. They all came from Asra’s closet, after all. “You teach me magic. You helped me when I was sick. Why can’t I worry about you?”

“Because your focus needs to be on you.” He thought, then placed his hand on the table. He swiped it to the side, and where his palm once rested sat a deck of cards. “Don’t think I forgot.”

I reached a hesitant hand to them. Asra had never let me touch them before. I could feel the energy of them from my seat across the table. I could hear them. They _spoke_ to me.

“Intuition is part of a reading,” he said. “A big part. But each card has its own meaning, and its own message. It differs with each message, with each person you read for.” He moved his hand back, and the cards appeared, as if by magic, flipped over. I knew it was how he moved his hand over the cards that made them move. I was still in awe, though, of how masterfully he manipulated them.

I looked upon each card. Gold leafing decorated the animal themed deck. Swords, coins…cups and wands. I looked over each one and…my eye caught one in particular. I pointed to it. “How come there’s nothing on that card?”

Asra looked to the card and plucked it from the deck. He looked it over. “How strange…I hadn’t noticed that before.”

“Had there been something on it before?”

“I think so, but…for some reason I don’t really remember what it was. I mean, I know what the card represents.” He set it down so that the zero was facing me. “It’s the Fool.”

“The Fool?”

“The person who moves through the journey of the Arcana.” He pushed forward a series of cards, then arranged them by number. “They move through the lessons of life, backwards and forward…does it say anything to you?”

“No,” I said. “But…it feels very familiar. As if I am…” I picked it up and studied it. A calmness came over me, and for a moment, I was not worried about the disagreement we’d had. A smile crept over my face. All I wanted was…to crawl inside of this card, it seemed. I wanted… “Feels like…home.”

Asra’s face flickered with a minute change. I shifted my eyes to him, but by then, he’d rested his chin on his hand and was regarding me with a soft smile.

‘What?”

“Nothing. Try shuffling the deck.”

I looked down at the card, but nodded and did as he asked. I slipped the card in the deck, and began to shuffle them. Asra hadn’t instructed me how, so I just began to switch the cards back and forth, in the deck, outside the deck. My movements were calm and easy, as if I had done this before. But I hadn’t. And I suppose my lack of skill became apparent, and my hand must’ve slipped, as a few cards slipped out from the deck and splattered down upon the table.

“Oh, woops,” I reached for them, but Asra stilled my hand. His touch was warm and arrested my attention. But I forced myself to look up at him.

“Sometimes the cards have something so important to say, they will make themselves known.” He lifted his hand and motioned to the cards. “Turn them over.”

I did. The cards revealed a fox-headed Magician, an owl-headed High priestess…a bear headed Hermit, a Crow headed hanged man. I pushed those cards aside and saw a goat headed Devil. I reached for it.

The card seemed hot to the touch. I recoiled my hand as if I’d been burned.

I looked to Asra, who was looking down at the cards himself. The smile on his face was gone.

“Are they supposed to be hot?” I asked.

He reached forward and touched the Devil card, but he did not recoil his hand as I had. “No,” he picked it up and looked it over. Another card slipped from its backing.

The blank Fool card.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What does any of it mean?” I could feel energy coming from the cards, and whisperings of words, but nothing coherent came to me.

“I…don’t…” Asra reached forward and took up the cards, erasing the display between us. “I am not sure, Hani. I’m sorry. I suppose I should have trained you more on what the cards mean and…how to tune into their message before I’d just given them to you. I’m afraid its meaning will only be worthwhile to you. Just…keep this in mind. Remember these cards…I am sure as time goes on, the message will become clearer.”

“Oh.” I sat back, a bit unsure of this. “Well, alright.”

Asra’s smile returned. “How about this. We’ll start at the beginning.” He took the deck up and flipped the first card. The Ace of…a coin? “The Ace of Pentacles. What do you think it means?”

“It looks like…someone is offering money.”

Asra smirked. “Close…”

We settled into roles we’d grown comfortable with. A teacher, teaching his pupil. And I was glad to learn. As he spoke, I forgot about the unpleasantness of the day. I only wished to know, and…to understand.

And I had to remind myself that, perhaps, with time…understanding was possible in all reaches of my life.


	21. Been Here Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this point I am just adding drabbles that kind of change the dialogue and what happens in the actual game. This is the scene at Mazelinka's house IF SHE DIDN'T JUST STRAIGHT UP COCKBLOCK MC

“I have a feeling he’ll take whatever you are giving.”

I looked down at the bowl. What…was I doing here? This was too…personal. I looked to Julian, who was trying to argue with Mazelinka. He was beyond tired, and wavered with his chin resting against his hand. He looked as I felt inside…run ragged, for sure. But perhaps, there was not confusion in him, and it was the confusion that had me standing there, silently, with a bowl of soup in my hands.

This was familiar.

I didn’t know why. I looked about the room briefly. It was very simple. A single bed that was wide enough for two, if the two lay very close together. A headboard strewn with various knickknacks. A leather thong lay there, along with some half used bottles and tins of lotions and such. Probably boot black and hair pomade.

But this…I felt like I had _been here before_ , and what was worse, that Mazelinka was trespassing. I wanted her gone, despite the fact that I utterly delighted in her. She patted me on the arm, jarring me to the present. The curtain fell back behind her, and I was left alone with Julian.

I looked to him.

Julian, the murderer.

Julian, the man who I should be arresting _right now_.

The dark line of his lips curled up at the corner.

“She makes that soup when I can’t sleep, bless her,” he muttered. “Even when I am beyond stress…”

I looked to the bowl as he talked. I was able to discern the ingredients quite easily. Most were herbs well known for their calming effects. Something also to ensure one went to sleep and stayed there. But then…something else. It was obvious that Mazelinka was rehearsed in magical brews. Or, she knew enough to use magical ingredients to enhance her “soup.”

My eyes met Julian’s when he stopped talking. I didn’t miss the way his tongue flicked over his lip. “It tastes fantastic.”

I found my voice, then. Something clicked in me, and I let a smirk pass over my lips. “Julian, this brew smells horrible. There is nothing fantastic about it except for the fact that if you do drink it, its going to knock you out.” I set the bowl aside.

“Oh? You haven’t even tried it…”

“It will tranquilize you instantly,” I said. I stepped closer, and he instinctively straightened. I set my knee on the bed beside him. “It is a good brew. But…” I trailed my finger up the loose placket of his shirt, up to the lapel. His throat swallowed just beyond. His chin was tipped up so that he looked directly at me. His warmth was so palpable between us. “Soon you will depend on it. Your body will need it to sleep. You should be able to sleep on your own. What is it that is keeping you awake? Your thoughts? Just…focus on me then.“

“Hani…” There was a hint of warning in his voice. I ignored it. My hand slipped behind his neck, to the nape, and I dug my fingers into his hair. There was something familiar about this, too. It felt right. And I suppose it felt right to him too, for he could only relax into the touch, and obediently shut his eye when I leaned down and kissed him.

He moaned a sound of affirmation between our lips, but I was…I was embracing this _rightness_ , this feeling that…this was where I was meant to be. My lips upon his. My mouth, opening to his, my breath upon his cheek, my hands in his hair and lapels and my thumb brushing against his collarbone. Something returned to me, something that I did not know was lost, when his fingers dragged up through my tunic, about my sides and up my back, as he embraced me. He kissed me again, this time hungrily. My breath was wrested from me.

I kissed him back, just the same as he had kissed me.

“Come closer…” He pulled me closer to him. Now my body was flush with his, my legs folding to allow me to straddle his lap. Warnings flew up within my mind, not to let this happen with _him_ , with the man _I was supposed to be hunting_ , but I relaxed against him, as if my body had a mind of its own. I let him kiss me again, and I let the thrill of this forbidden act grapple my nerves.

I made a noise as something inside me drove me forward. I needed him. I wanted him so badly, and I couldn’t make myself ignore it. It came from deep within, mingled with unknown curiosities that I did not recognize and I could not explore, but...I had the sense that I’d kissed him before, I had touched him before. I’d felt his tongue in my mouth before, his hands snaking across my back before, curving about my shoulders and down to the small of my back…all the while I was wrapped in the scent of musk and leather and just a hint of blood…

I blinked and pulled away, but just enough to break the kiss. My mind was racing to find an anchor in all this. It felt like vertigo, but not. I ducked my head a bit, and my eyelashes grazed his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” Julian’s voice panted. He was lost in this too. Did he stop to think as I was? Did this seem familiar to him as well? “Is it too much?”

“No,” I whispered. “I don’t really know how to explain it.” I pressed the tip of my thumb to his lower lip. “Julian…I…”

“You can tell me,” he said softly. He leaned forward. I rested my forehead against his. I might as well had caressed him, for he closed his eye and waited. “I’ll be good…”

“This all seems…so…” I didn’t want to say familiar. I didn’t want to scare him, and I didn’t want to ruin…this. He was slipping into a place without thought, that much I could see. “Very right…”

“Hmm…” He brought my hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the palm. Did he even hear me?

I pushed at him, not to shove him away, but enough to grasp his attention. He looked to me, but…allowed me to push him back into the bed. My hand guided and he obeyed, first collapsing to his elbows, his stomach muscles shifting as his spine curled back. He heaved a breath when I pressed my palm to the center of his chest, and he relaxed all the way, his back complete against the mattress.

I leaned so that that I hovered over him, my curls creating a curtain about our faces. He looked up at me with a hint of bewilderment, but his eye quickly hooded once more, his pupil dilated. “I was told you’d need to be pinned.”

“I…I’m not going anywhere…” he managed. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. My other hand rested against his throat, and he seemed to stretch his neck more to allow me to curl my fingers about it. I held him for a moment, laying a light grip upon him. I studied his face. The grey of his eye was barely discernible through the slit of his eyelids and the fringe of his lashes. His face was flushed deep, and he drew in breath very slowly.

“I could do anything to you right now,” I said. “And it pleases you, doesn’t it?”

“…yes,” he managed.

“What is it that you want?”

“Anything, Hani…” he breathed it. His body writhed a bit in anticipation. “Hurt me, be gentle with me, whatever you wish…”

“Whatever I wish…” I trailed my hand away from his neck, and allowed my fingers to feel the curves of his throat down to the clavicle, then traced his collarbone and then down the indent at the center of his chest. I glanced up at him to see his eye closed, and his breath was being held, as he concentrated on my touch. “You’re so tired, Doctor. Perhaps you should just sleep.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” he said. He found his breath and managed a small laugh. “Do you plan to tease me into sleep? I promise you, it won’t work.”

“I am only worried.” I shook my head and shut my eyes. “I am thinking of things I would do to you, Doctor. Things I’ve never thought of before.” My fingers traced down the center of his stomach, to his navel. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to a spot that my hands had just left. His muscles tensed under my touch, and I kissed him again, and again, at the same spot until he relaxed. “Tell me to stop, if I should stop.”

“I…why would…”

“Because I won’t stop…tell me you don’t want me…” I looked up. I felt to be in the same spot as he. I could only imagine the look of desperation that I gave him. _Please tell me to stop. Please…don’t tell me to stop…_ “Tell me you don’t want me the way I want you…”

His mouth slid open. “I…couldn’t lie like that…”

“You want me?”

“Yes, Hani…but…”

“Shh…” I shifted and pressed my hand to the inside of his thigh. My fingers raked up before gripping at the junction of his thigh, touching him yet not. He pressed into my hand, but did not shift. He was good. He knew not to do anything unless I told him. “Just remain still.”

He gave a nod, his lip caught in his teeth.

I leaned down and pressed my lips to him. He was already excited under the fabric of his trousers, and I could make him out with my fingers. I shut my eyes and traced my lips over his length. I cupped the tip with a kiss, and set to kissing back up his length, slowly and teasingly. My hands caressed him, up his length, then down between his legs, against his ass, tracing his crease under his trousers.

He was so good, so still under me, and so quiet, but he grew hard under me, so I knew the effect I had on him. I undid the falls of his trousers and pulled him out gently. I repeated what I’d done to him over his trousers. Kisses. Teases. I rested my face against the fine, darker red hairs that trailed down from his navel and pulled his trousers down his hips.

I felt his hips, enjoying how his bones pressed up against his skin and contrasted against the soft firmness of his muscles. I kissed the small swell of muscle beneath his navel that trailed down to his cock, and spared it a kiss before returning to appreciating his form with kisses that turned into nips and bites.

He flinched under me. He whined. “Hani…”

“Shh…” I said again. “Julian…” I let my breath ghost his cock. It twitched under my touch, so I returned my attentions upon it, kissing, lapping with my tongue, teasing, tasting. He felt so good under me, pinned and compliant. Every now and then I glanced up. He watched me with that hooded gaze, his breaths hitched and holding, his head tossed to the side. I wanted to crawl back up and kiss him, and take him right, but…I saw he had no energy for that.

I lapped at the head of his cock, then took him down within my mouth. I was quick with my touches, my hand pumping him between draws. He moaned once, and shifted his legs, splaying them for me so wantonly, but then resigned himself to quiet gasps with each breath. I drew him to the edge, and thought of teasing him. I thought how I could pull away, and leave him there, and just when he would begin to fall away, I would return, and tease him again, over and over, for hours. But he didn’t have hours. I saw the strain I put on him already.

Instead, I pulled myself alongside him, and pressed kisses to his chest and neck as I stroked him. He turned into me, his face buried into my neck. I whispered to him how much I enjoyed seeing him this way, how I loved to touch him, how I loved to taste him. I told him to thrust into my hand, and he did. His torso curled to bring his hips into my hand, each muscle engaging in turn to bring his length through my hand, again and again. I rewarded him now and again with a squeeze, a caress, a kiss upon his cheek.

“You are so good,” I said to him, when I saw that he was closer still. He rutted into my hand freely. “Let go, Julian. Let me see you…”

He nodded and began thrusting into my hand with renewed vigor, as if there was some well of energy in him reserved just for his. He panted and mewled, his form shuddering as release came upon him. A tired gasp was let loose against my neck. He’d pulled himself against me, and was too tired to draw himself out. I did it for him, making sure he was spent, and then found a handkerchief in his back pocket to clean up with. I pulled his trousers back over his hips and buttoned him up, and when I returned to press a kiss to his lips, I saw that he was already within the reaches of sleep.

“Tsk…” I brushed the hair from his face and drew the blankets up over us. I let my own arousal fall away, and was content just to have him in my arms. He shifted, and wrapped his arm about me, then a leg. In a few moments, he was truly gone, his limbs dead weight, and a soft, almost inaudible snore coming from him.

I watched his sleeping form for a good while, the racing thoughts returning for a bit. How I shouldn’t be there. How I shouldn’t have done what I’d just done. How I didn’t care. And how…incredibly content I was. I felt my own exhaustion hit me, and I waved at the candle. The flame twisted up and disappeared, shrouding the room with darkness.

“Goodnight…Julian…”

He didn’t reply, lost as he was to blissful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this to put my own story to my MC but it just went nuts. Some stuff is canon, most of it isn't.


End file.
